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WHILE     CHARLIE     WAS     AWAY. 
By  Mrs.  Poultney   Bigelow.      $0.75 

THE    TALK    OF    THE    TOWN.      By 
Elisa  Armstrong    Bengough.    $1.25 

THE  STIRRUP  CUP.      By  J.  Aubrey 
Tyson.    $1.35 

THE  UNWELCOME  MRS.  HATCH. 
By  Mrs.  Burton  Harrison.     $1.25 

Others  to  Follow 

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Untoelcome 
JElrs. 


•  £ppictcn  a  Co. 

1903 


Copyright,  ipoj,  by 
D.    Appleton   £3"    Company 


Published  June,  1905 


Copyright,  1901,  by  the 
Ess  Ess  Publishing  Company 


^tinting  Companio 
g«orh 


flJntoelcome  Jftm 


|N  a  well-furnished  room  of  a  good 
hotel  in  the  smart  residential  quar- 
ter of  New  York  a  stout-armed 
Irishwoman  was  in  the  act  of 
drawing  together  a  pair  of  chintz  curtains 
over  an  alcove  bed.  The  neat  little  brass 
bedstead,  the  pattern  of  the  chintz  and  of 
the  Brussels  carpet,  the  ash  furniture,  the 
electric  fixtures,  the  lace  window-curtains 
and  the  steam  radiator,  like  gilded  organ- 
pipes,  had  been  so  often  imprinted  on  the 
retina  of  Miss  Biddy  McCluskey's  eye,  in  her 
daily  whiskings  through  many  such  apart- 
ments as  sixth-floor  chambermaid  of  the 
Stuyvesantia,  that  it  was  strange  she  should 
single  out  the  temporary  owner  of  this 
particular  apartment  for  meditative  com- 
ment. 

i  1 


222S492 


eamDeicotne  jEr& 


"She's  a  beaut,  is  No.  1089,"  she  ob- 
served to  a  bell-boy  who  had  come  up  with 
a  parcel.  "  Not  so  young  as  some,  but  the 
real  thing  in  manners.  Must  ha'  kep'  lots  o' 
help  in  her  time,  private  house,  Fifth  Ave- 
nue style,  like  the  ones  I  always  lived  wid 
before  I  took  up  wid  hotels.  Tell  you 
something,  Jimmy  —  she  ain't  more'n  laid 
on  the  outside  o'  that  bed  all  night,  and 
she  come  all  the  way  from  Californy,  so 
she  says." 

"  Aw,  wot  are  ye  givin'  me  !  "  was  the  self- 
sufficient  answer.  "  I  don't  advertise  myself 
for  no  mind  reader,  but  I  see  No.  1089  wuz 
in  trouble  w'en  I  lifted  her  bags  up  here  last 
night.  Guv  me  a  quarter  for  myself  just  to 
take  a  tellygram  down  to  the  office  below, 
let  alone  anudder  quarter  an'  a  penny  for  de 
stamp,  an'  den  dropped  herself  down  dere  on 
de  sofa,  and  was  tuk  wid  a  fit  o'  de  shivers. 
See?" 

"  You  didn't  happen  to  read  that  telegram, 
sonny?"  asked  Miss  McCluskey,  while  in- 
dulging in  the  lightning  act  of  passing  a 


amtoeicome 


feather  duster  over  smooth  surfaces  conve- 
niently at  hand. 

"  Marry  me  on  yer  next  Sunday  out,  an' 
I'll  tell  yer  all  my  secrets,"  retorted  the  boy, 
provokingly,  then  carried  his  sauce  and  his 
buttony  exterior  out  of  reach  of  her  aveng- 
ing duster. 

Scarcely  had  the  door  of  No.  1089  closed 
behind  the  bell-boy,  and  Miss  McCluskey 
relapsed  into  a  long,  leisurely  survey  of  her 
charms  in  the  mirror,  when  there  was  a  hes- 
itating knock.  To  the  chambermaid's  tart 
invitation  to  come  in  responded  a  mysteri- 
ous, battered-looking  creature,  with  a  futile 
attempt  at  gentility  in  his  get-up,  who  in- 
sinuated himself  into  the  aperture  he  had 
created  and  gave  a  comprehensive  glance 
around  the  room. 

"  Well,  what's  up?  "  asked  the  McCluskey, 
rebukingly. 

"Don't  let  me  incommode  you,  miss," 
was  the  suave  answer.  "  It  is  only  —  er  —  a 
little  business  I  have  with  the  lady.  She 
won't  want  to  miss  me,  sure." 

3 


flJtttaelcome 


"  She  ain't  in,"  snapped  the  chambermaid, 
whose  life  was  spent  on  guard  against  way- 
farers and  strangers. 

"  Oh,  never  mind.  I'll  wait,"  returned  the 
visitor,  complacently. 

Somehow,  with  all  her  experience,  Biddy 
thought  she  had  never  met  such  shifty  yet 
universally  inquisitive  eyes.  They  seemed 
to  bore  through  wood  and  metal,  looking- 
glass  and  stuffs,  and  to  read  the  innermost 
motives  of  her  being.  The  poor  thing 
thought  of  the  dollar  bill  she  had  found  in 
the  bureau  drawer  in  No.  1101  a  day  or 
two  before,  and  of  an  embroidered  pocket 
handkerchief,  tucked  between  the  tufted 
seat  and  back  of  an  armchair  in  No.  1090, 
that  she  had  appropriated  without  men- 
tioning the  fact  at  the  desk.  She  faltered 
as  she  tried  to  regain  her  usual  masterful 
tone. 

"  If  the  lady  wanted  youse  so  much,  why 
didn't  you  send  up  your  card  ?  " 

"She'll  understand,"  the  man  answered, 
pushing  further  in,  and  at  last  standing  on 


OJntoelcome 


the  hearth-rug,  while  still   continuing   his 
rapid  survey  of  the  room  and  its  contents. 

"  I  remember,  now,  I  heard  her  mention 
down  the  tube  that  if  a  gentleman  calls 
she'll  be  back  at  ten-thirty,  sharp." 

"  A  gentleman,  eh  ?  "  said  the  stranger, 
with  animation. 

"  So  it  ain't  you  ;  see  ?  "  replied  Miss 
McCluskey,  who  was  regaining  her  usual 
form.  "  Come,  now  ;  git  outside,  or  I'll 
call  down  the  trumpet  and  have  the  porters 
up." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  hasty,  my  dear  miss," 
said  the  stranger,  dropping  into  a  chair. 
"  The  truth  is,  you  suspect  me  ;  but  a  lady 
of  your  tact  and  intelligence  should  know 
better." 

As  he  spoke  he  was  reading  the  labels  on 
the  trunk  nearest  him  —  a  lady's  dress-basket, 
covered  with  tarpaulin,  smart,  up-to-date 
and  newly  lettered. 

"A  long  journey  Mrs.  Hatch  has  had 
from  'Frisco,  hasn't  she  ?  Mr.  Hatch  with 
her  ?  "  he  went  on. 

5 


antoelcome  ;jttt% 


"  Mr.  Nobody's  with  her  !  "  exclaimed  the 
woman,  indignantly.  "  If  yer  want  to  ask 
questions,  go  down  to  the  office." 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  won't  wait,  but 
will  just  leave  a  note  saying  I'll  call  again," 
observed  the  visitor,  as  an  apparent  after- 
thought. "  She'll  be  so  sorry  to  have  missed 
her  old  friend  !  " 

Gliding  into  a  chair  set  behind  a  fanciful 
and  uncomfortable  little  hotel  desk  strewn 
with  a  few  open  papers  and  writing  materi- 
als, he  affected  to  scribble  a  few  lines  on  a 
sheet  of  white  paper.  In  the  brief  time 
that  he  sat  there  even  Miss  McCluskey's 
suspicious  eyes  did  not  keep  pace  with  his 
swift  investigation  of  everything  within  his 
reach  —  though  she  observed  he  slipped 
every  drawer  open  noiselessly  and  peeped 
inside. 

Apparently  nothing  rewarded  this  ex- 
ploration by  Mrs.  Hatch's  old  friend.  In  a 
very  few  moments  he  got  up,  crumpled  the 
paper  he  had  written  and  put  it  in  his 
pocket,  declaring  he  had  changed  his  mind 

6 


autoelcome 


and  would  leave  a  message  for  her  at  the 
office;  then,  wishing  the  ample  Biddy  a 
polite  good-day,  started  for  the  door. 

"  Good  luck  go  wid  ye  1  "  observed  the 
woman,  with  animus. 

"  Good-bye,  miss;  no  offense,  I  hope,  but 
—  "  and  he  slipped  a  dollar  into  her  hand  — 
"No.  1089  is  O.  K.,  as  far  as  you  have 
seen?  " 

"  I'm  not  up  till  yer  low  questions,  any- 
way," returned  Biddy,  indignantly  pushing 
the  money  back  into  his  grasp. 

"  On  the  square,  savey  ?  Keeps  no  com- 
pany, orders  no  cigarettes  or  cocktails  in  her 
room,  uses  no  hypodermics  or  morphine  ?  " 
he  explained,  pleasantly. 

"  An'  is  it  yer  '  old  friend  '  yer  asking  that 
about  ?  "  cried  she,  angrily.  "  Sure  I  know 
yer  sort  at  last.  Ye'r'  a  detective,  bad  cess 
to  yer  ugly  mug.  She's  a  perfect  lady,  I 
tell  ye,  and  that's  all  ye'll  get  out  o'  me,  if 
ye  stop  here  till  ye  take  root." 

"No  offense,  no  offense,"  repeated  the 
man,  imperturbably,  as  she  fairly  forced  him 

7 


into  retreat  and  slammed  and  locked  the 
door. 

The  next  knock  revealed  nothing  more 
alarming  than  a  District  Messenger  boy 
carrying  a  neat  little  parcel,  wrapped  in 
jeweler's  style,  and  sealed  at  either  end. 

"Special,  C.  O.  D.,"  recited  the  lad, 
briefly.  "  Told  me  at  office  lady  left  orders 
she'd  be  in  at  10.30." 

"  You  look  like  the  right  article,  so  wait 
there, "  replied  the  maid,  leaving  the  door  on 
the  crack  while  she  finished  her  task,  hurry- 
ing into  seclusion  a  pair  of  shoes  with  trim 
buckles,  and  venturing  to  try  around  her 
own  throat  a  long  feather-boa  before  she 
laid  it  in  a  drawer. 

Punctually,  as  a  bell  in  a  neighboring 
clock  tower  struck  the  half-hour  after  ten, 
the  soft  rustle  of  a  woman's  skirts  came  up 
the  corridor  from  the  elevator  door  and 
paused  before  No.  1089. 

"  Oh  1  you  are  there  ?  That's  very  nice," 
said  a  peculiarly  soft  and  low  cadenced 
voice.  "  I  see  the  door's  open,  so  the  maid 

8 


cantoelcome 


must  be  still  inside.  Come  in,  please,  till  I 
settle  our  account." 

Once  in  a  while  there  is  found  a  Dis- 
trict Messenger  boy  who  has  human  emo- 
tions, and  this  one  responded,  as  did  the 
rest  of  the  world  in  general  to  Marian 
Hatch's  greeting,  with  a  smile.  She  was 
a  tall,  slim  woman,  youthful  of  form  and 
face,  and  —  though  the  wells  of  her  deep 
eyes  were  brimming  with  the  emotions  of  sad 
experience  —  extremely  pretty  still,  grace- 
ful in  every  one  of  her  impulsive  move- 
ments, and  of  a  personal  distinction  in  ap- 
pearance and  bearing  that  marked  her  as 
belonging  to  the  higher-cultured  class.  Her 
tailor-made  costume  of  dark  gray  was  se- 
verely cut,  but  stylish,  while  her  large  black 
hat  and  nodding  plumes  made  a  picture 
of  the  charming  face  beneath,  and  she  held 
a  couple  of  American  beauty  roses  in  her 
hand. 

"  You  have  done  my  room  nicely,  and 
just  in  time,"  she  said  to  the  maid,  who, 
assuming  an  attitude  of  subservience  foreign 

9 


to  her  usual  demeanor,  responded  with  a 
grin,  and  softly  disappeared. 

Then  the  lady,  taking  off  her  gloves,  veil, 
and  hat,  threw  them  carelessly  on  the  sofa, 
and  relieving  the  boy  of  his  parcel,  dropped 
into  a  chair  by  the  little  table  in  the  center 
of  the  room.  As  she  broke  the  seals  she 
glanced  with  happy  eyes  at  the  box's  con- 
tents, then  at  the  accompanying  bill. 

"  Quite  right.  Here  is  the  money.  Re- 
ceipt the  bill,  please,"  she  went  on,  holding 
the  box  and  falling  into  a  sort  of  half- dream, 
while  the  lad,  producing  a  stub  pencil, 
moistened  it  on  his  lips,  and  stretching  on 
the  wall  the  paper  she  had  handed  him 
signed  it  laboriously. 

The  messenger  had  been  gone  for  some 
time,  when  she  started  from  her  reverie  and 
took  up  her  open  portemonnaie  from  the 
table. 

"  Bless  me ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  That  inno- 
cent Mercury  little  knew  how  nearly  this 
payment  has  cleaned  me  out.  But  never 
mind,  so  long  as  it  gives  her  pleasure !  Now, 

10 


(Untoelcome 


I  must  get  into  shape  to  receive  a  visit  from 
my  traveling  companion  across  the  conti- 
nent. He  will  be  punctual.  He  has  all  the 
virtues,  has  Jack  Adrian." 

Another  knock  at  her  much-beleaguered 
door,  and  Jimmy  entered,  card  on  tray, 
mechanically  repeating  : 

"  Gentleman  for  1089." 

"Ask  the  gentleman  to  come  up,"  she 
said,  after  a  glance  at  the  card.  Then,  with 
a  hasty  look  at  herself  in  the  mirror,  she 
resumed  her  seat,  taking  up  her  roses  and 
toying  with  them  a  little  nervously. 

"  I  wanted,  of  all  things,  to  receive  Jack 
Adrian  as  a  lady  should,"  passed  through 
her  mind.  "  Dear,  honest  boy,  he  knows  as 
little  as  the  District  Messenger  boy  does 
how  near  I  am  to  being  stone  broke.  After 
my  journey  here,  and  sundry  purchases,  I 
can  afford  to  keep  this  room  just  one  week 
—  and  after  that,  the  deluge  !  " 

Then  she  was  shaking  hands,  simply  and 
cordially,  with  a  young  man  of  handsome 
face  and  cheery  presence.  He  carried  a 

11 


antoelcome 


large  bunch  of  lilies-of-  the-  valley  wrapped  in 
soft  paper,  which,  with  some  awkwardness, 
he  offered  for  her  acceptance. 

"  You  see,  I  took  you  at  your  word,  and 
called  abominably  early,"  he  said.  "  Have 
these  ?  I  picked  them  up  at  a  florist's  as  I 
came  along  in  the  hansom,  and  thought 
maybe  you'd  like  'em." 

"  Like  them  !  "  cried  Marian,  rapturously 
burying  her  face  in  their  fragrance.  "  If  you 
knew  how  sinfully  I  always  covet  flowers  — 
all  flowers  —  everybody's  flowers  !  I  couldn't 
resist  buying  these  poor  roses  in  the  street 
just  now.  Yours  are  so  beautifully  fresh 
and  crisp  !  They  will  last  for  days  and  keep 
Spring  in  my  heart  !  " 

"  Glad  you're  pleased,"  he  answered, 
sitting  opposite  her,  hat  and  stick  in  hand, 
the  image  of  conventional  respectability  and 
wholesomeness.  "  I'd  meant  to  drop  in  any- 
way this  morning  to  ask  if  you'd  rested  after 
our  tiresome  journey,  and  whether  you'd 
met  your  friends  all  right  at  this  hotel." 

She  started  a  little,  but  smiled  beamingly. 
12 


(Hntoelcome 


"  Oh,  I'm  quite  rested,  thank  you  —  you 
found  my  telegram  at  your  club  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  came  at  once.  What  can  I  do 
for  you,  Mrs.  Hatch  ?  " 

"  You've  been  doing  so  much  for  me  for 
days  past,"  she  answered,  lightly,  "  I  daren't 
ask  for  more.  Always  thinking  of  me  ;  al- 
ways caring  for  me,  a  perfect  stranger  —  a 
son  couldn't  have  been  kinder.  I  wish  you 
were  my  son.  " 

"  That's  pretty  ambitious,  isn't  it,  from  a 
woman  of  your  age  to  a  man  of  mine  ?  "  he 
said,  jokingly,  "  By  the  way,  my  father  and 
mother  have  come  down  from  their  country 
home,  and  are  in  town  for  a  purpose.  I 
thought,  if  it  would  be  agreeable  to  you, 
I'd  like  to  bring  my  mother  here  to  call." 

A  little  flush  came  to  her  cheek  as  she 
again  rested  it  among  the  lilies.  "  How  kind 
you  are  !  "  she  repeated.  "  How  nice  for 
your  mother  to  own  you  !  I  never  had  a  son. 
In  my  short  married  life  I  had  a  daughter, 
whom  I  lost  twelve  years  ago.  She  was  just 
five." 

13 


Clje  antoelcome 


"  And  you  have  lost  your  husband  since  ?  " 
said  young  Adrian,  gently.  "  Poor  little 
woman,  that  was  hard  lines,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Hatch  tried  to  answer.  Her  voice 
broke,  and  tears  filled  her  eyes.  While 
Adrian  was  wishing  the  conversation  had  not 
taken  that  particular  turn,  she  recovered  her- 
self, and  spoke  brusquely,  and  to  his  utter 
confusion. 

"  Mr.  Adrian,  I  sent  for  you  to  come  here 
because  I've  been  deceiving  you." 

Adrian  started  visibly,  but  controlled  his 
feelings  to  answer  her  in  his  usual  jocular 
tone. 

"  Don't  say  that.  I've  been  thinking  of 
you  as  almost  my  ideal  woman." 

"  Almost,  not  quite,"  she  answered. 
"The  ideal  is  the  girl  you're  engaged  to 
marry." 

"  Who  told  you  I'm  engaged  to  marry  ?  " 
he  asked,  reddening  to  the  ears. 

"  As  if  you  could  hope  to  spend  several 
days  in  solid  talk  with  a  clever  woman  and 
not  have  her  find  that  your  big,  manly  heart 

14 


antoelcome 


was  gone  out  of  your  keeping.  Why,  you 
foolish  boy,  I  knew  it  the  first  day  —  then,'^ 
she  added,  dropping  her  voice,  "  I  was  con- 
vinced when  you  never  spoke  of  her  to  me, 
a  mere  traveling  acquaintance." 

"  Granted,  then,  that  I  have  that  good 
fortune,  and  am  very  soon  to  be  married," 
he  said,  hurrying  ;  "  will  you  give  me  your 
good  wishes  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  oh,  yes  —  a  thousand  of  them  !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  Happy  boy,  and  happier 
girl,  since  she  is  sure  of  the  husband  of  her 
choice  !  But  I  mustn't  talk  of  that.  I  must 
go  on  telling  you  about  myself." 

"Must  you?"  he  said,  vaguely  uneasy. 
"Why?"  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  because  I'm  awfully 
superstitious,  and  I'm  afraid  the  object  of 
my  journey  east  will  fail  if  I  begin  by  letting 
you  believe  a  lie." 

"  A  lie  !  that's  not  a  favorite  word  of 
mine,  certainly,"  Adrian  said,  getting  up, 
walking  to  the  window  and  then  returning 
to  his  place. 

15 


flJntoelcomc  jfctr& 


"  You  know  I  told  you  I  am  a  widow 
coming  to  New  York  to  visit  my  husband's 
family,"  she  said,  in  a  clear  voice.  "  Well, 
that's  false.  I'm  a  waif,  a  social  outcast. 
For  twelve  years  not  one  of  my  husband's 
family  has  spoken  to  me.  They  wouldn't 
touch  me  with  a  pair  of  tongs." 

Adrian  recoiled.  He  could  not  believe  it 
was  his  merry,  debonair  comrade  of  yester- 
day who  was  saying  such  hateful  words  to 
him. 

"He  is  living  and  he  got  the  divorce. 
You  understand  ?  He  got  the  divorce.  No, 
don't  try  to  answer  me.  ...  I  was  a  young, 
heedless,  reckless,  desperate  girl,  and  I  did 
what  forced  me  to  step  down  from  my  pin- 
nacle in  good  society  ...  to  go  out  into 
darkness  .  .  .  never  to  see  my  child  a- 
gain." 

Her  voice  broke  in  sobs.  Through  the 
open  window  came  the  rush  and  jar  of  the 
great  city's  everlasting  movement.  He  was 
conscious  of  wanting  awfully  to  get  out  into 
the  open  street  again. 

16 


"  I  wish  you  hadn't  sent  for  me,"  he  said, 
finally.  "I'd  much  rather  have  continued 
to  think  of  you  as  I  did." 

"  Oh,  I  know  it,"  she  answered,  forlornly. 
"  And  my  excuse  for  having  misled  you  is 
miserably  weak.  I  only  wanted  to  get  back 
for  a  little  while  into  the  place  I've  forfeited. 
I  saw  you  respected  me,  and  I  liked  the 
feeling.  It  was  so  jolly  to  be  squired  and 
waited  on  by  a  man  of  my  own  sort — above 
all,  to  be  believed  in." 

"In  what  way  can  I  serve  you  now  ? "  he 
said,  striving  to  let  no  change  appear  in  his 
voice. 

"  Oh,  in  no  way."  He  thought  there  was 
a  tinge  of  recklessness  in  her  tone.  "  I'm 
not  going  to  sponge  any  longer  on  your  gal- 
lantry. I'm  quite  sufficient  for  myself,  thank 
you.  For  years  I've  been  taking  care  of  that 
individual,  working  hard  and  living  honestly. 
.  .  .  Mr.  Adrian,  it  was  the  kindest  thing 
you  ever  did  to  propose  bringing  you  mother 
to  call  on  me." 

Adrian's  ready  blood  rushed  again  to  his 


dntoelcome 


temples.  He  was  literally  oppressed  for 
words  to  answer  her. 

"  I  only  hope  it'll  be  possible  to  find  her 
disengaged,  Mrs.  Hatch,"  he  stammered  at 
last,  because  her  eyes  were  fixed  beseech- 
ingly on  his. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  letting  her  bunch 
of  lilies  fall  to  the  floor.  Her  voice  sounded 
sharp  as  she  cried  out  : 

"  That's  not  my  real  name  !  I'm  not  Mrs. 
Hatch,  any  more  than  you're  Mr.  Hatch  ! 
It's  just  a  stupid,  commonplace  business 
name  I  took  to  work  under.  Oh  !  don't  try 
to  soothe  me  now;  I  can't  help  my  quick 
temper,  and  I  see  what  my  honesty  has  done 
for  me.  It's  the  same  old  story.  If  you're 
going  to  condole  with  me,  don't  !  " 

She  swept  up  the  room  stormily,  breath- 
ing hard.  Adrian  did  not  dare  to  stir. 

"  You  are  quite  unlike  yourself,"  he  ven- 
tured, in  the  end. 

"You'd  better  go,  Mr.  Adrian,"  said  the 
poor  creature,  stopping  before  him  suddenly. 
"  Now,  while  I'm  hard  and  horrid  !  My 

18 


antoelcome  ffivfr 


idyl's  over.  For  a  week  I've  been  in  my 
old  place  in  life  ;  now  I've  relapsed.  Pres- 
ently I'll  be  only  a  bubble,  burst  on  the  sea 
of  your  recollections.  A  month  hence  I'll 
have  faded  from  your  thoughts,  and  by  next 
year,  should  you  pass  me  in  the  street,  you'll 
say,  '  Where  have  I  seen  that  woman  ?  '  So, 
you  see,  I'll  not  trouble  you  long.  It's  you 
that  will  trouble  me.  " 

"  I  swear  I'd  like  to  help  you,"  cried  the 
young  man,  fervently. 

"  You  can't,  my  dear  boy  !  you  just  can't  1  " 
she  answered,  touched  by  his  evident  sin- 
cerity. "  No  man  can  but  one,  and  he's 
made  of  iron  and  india  rubber.  He's  com- 
ing here  presently." 

She  shivered. 

"  The  man  who  —  was  your  husband  ?  "  he 
asked,  hesitatingly. 

"  Yes  ;  all  this  while  he's  let  people  think 
I'm  dead.  But  he  well  knows  I've  been 
living  alone,  toiling  to  keep  the  wolf  from 
the  door  !  He's  always  had  an  eye  —  several 
eyes  —  on  his  lost  treasure.  He's  never  ceased 

19 


Clje  dntDelcome 


to  spy  on  me  —  detectives  —  everything  hor- 
rid ;  but  I've  never  once  asked  him  for  help 
or  anything.  I  have  to  now,  for  there's  one 
I  love  better  than  my  pride.  " 

"  Your  child,  too,  is  living  ?  " 

"Yes,  with  them  —  he's  married  again  — 
and  I'm  just  breaking  my  heart  to  see  her! 
Think  of  me  having  to  ask  a  favor  of  a  man 
who  has  trampled  me  in  the  mire  !  Oh,  but 
she's  worth  it.  If  he's  flesh  and  blood  he 
can't  refuse  me  !  " 

"  My  dear  lady,"  Adrian  said,  softly,  when 
her  tears  were  somewhat  checked,  "  you  must 
know  this  is  very  painful  to  me,  the  more 
so  because  I  feel  so  disgustingly  useless  in 
the  case." 

"  I  told  you  you  couldn't  help  !  "  exclaimed 
Marian.  "  Don't  mind  my  crying.  It  eases 
the  pain.  Every  mile  of  our  journey  the 
train  was  saying,  '  You  are  this  much  —  this 
much  —  nearer  to  your  darling  !  '  Oh  !  how 
foolish  I  am  to  struggle  when  I  need  so  much 
strength  for  what's  to  come  !  " 

She  dried  her  eyes  with  a  tiny  web  of 
20 


Ontoelcome  ;fttt% 


lace  and  linen,  so  ridiculously  inadequate  for 
its  purpose  that  she  crumpled  it  up  into  a 
ball,  threw  it  across  the  room  and  laughed. 

"  Come,  cheer  me  up  a  bit  !  "  she  cried. 
"  Tell  me  about  the  girl  that's  to  be  your 
wife." 

Now  it  was  Adrian's  turn  to  experience  a 
sudden  change  of  manner.  A  moment  be- 
fore he  had  been  ready,  at  all  hazards,  to  rush 
into  the  lists  and  champion  this  delightful 
victim  of  man's  inhumanity.  But  when  it 
came  to  bringing  the  name  of  his  fiancee 
between  them,  he  grew  chill. 

"  What  do  you  wish  to  hear?"  he  said,  in 
a  constrained  voice. 

"  The  usual  things.  Is  she  fair  or  dark, 
young  or  old,  merry  or  sad,  meek  or  spirited? 
I  hope,  for  her  sake,  nature  hasn't  been  so 
cruel  as  to  make  her  impulsive,  jealous,  fiery 
on  provocation,  repenting  as  soon  as  she  has 
offended,  a  fond  lover,  a  hot  hater,  keen  for 
revenge,  but  ready  to  lie  down  in  the  dust 
and  let  herself  be  walked  on  by  one  she  loves  ! 
That's  myself,  Mr.  Adrian  —  the  worst  kind 

21 


€l)e 


of  an  outfit  for  a  wife.  Better  be  cold, 
callous,  self-worshiping,  wearing  an  armor, 
never  out  of  temper,  never  ruffled  by  a  man's 
passions  or  emotions;  pursuing  the  even  tenor 
of  an  utterly  selfish  way,  no  matter  who  else 
goes  under  in  the  crash  of  life.  That's  my 
successor.  She  gets  on  splendidly  1  " 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  said  Adrian,  ris- 
ing. "  It  doesn't  make  you  happier  to  see 
anyone  just  now.  I'd  better  say  good-by." 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  my  being  a  little  catty 
about  —  that  one,"  said  Marian,  nodding  mys- 
teriously. "  But  I  won't  do  it  any  more. 
You  were  going  to  tell  me  about  your  bride- 
to-be." 

"  There's  really  nothing  to  tell,"  said  the 
young  man,  still  upon  his  feet  to  go,  "  but 
that  she  is  very  young,  gentle,  childlike, 
lovely  to  look  upon,  and  entirely  without 
experience  in  the  world." 

"  I  was  all  that  —  even  lovely  to  look  upon, 
they  said  —  when  I  married  at  seventeen. 
Think  of  what,  in  other  hands,  I  might  now 
have  been  I  Oh  1  I  see  you  are  afraid  to 


(Utttoelcome  j$ir& 


have  me  go  on.  Men  so  hate  a  woman  who 
makes  scenes.  Good-by,  then,  but  before 
we  part  -  " 

She  paused,  looking  at  him  with  a  gaze  all 
gentleness  and  pathos. 

"  What,  Mrs.  Hatch  ?  "  asked  Adrian,  very 
softly. 

Marian  hung  her  proudly  set  little  head. 

"Say  you'll  try  to  forget  there's  one  door- 
way in  my  past  with  a  black  veil  hanging 
over  it  1  Say  you  believe  I'm  not  altogether 
bad!" 

Adrian  clasped  her  hand. 

"  If  ever  you  need  me,  send.  I'll  come 
at  a  minute's  notice.  You'll  see  then,  Mrs. 
Hatch,  whether  I  misjudge  you." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you  !  "  she  cried. 
*  '  Please  continue  to  be  as  happy  as  you  are 
good.  Oh  !  why  aren't  all  men  like  you  I 
Your  wife  will  never  be  tempted  -  " 

At  once  he  stiffened;  the  smile  died  out. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Hatch,"  he  said,  inter- 
rupting her. 

"  I  see,"  she  answered,  sadly,  "  I  mustn't 


cross  the  gulf  between  me  and  her.  But 
you  can't  help  my  praying  for  her  when  I  do 
for  you.  Now  go — please  go. " 

She  pushed  him  toward  the  door  in  her 
ever  impulsive  fashion,  then  dropped  into 
her  chair  by  the  table.  Adrian  went  slowly, 
torn  by  conflicting  feelings,  not  in  the  least 
satisfied  with  himself.  As  he  laid  his  hand 
on  the  knob  he  looked  back.  She  was  sit- 
ting like  a  breathing  statue,  her  head  drooped, 
her  hands  crossed  on  her  lap. 

"  Good-by,  and  take  courage,"  he  said ; 
then  hurried  out. 

For  a  long  time  she  did  not  move  ;  then 
she  uttered  a  deep  sigh,  and  looking  at  a 
little  traveling  clock  on  the  table,  sprang 
suddenly  into  action. 

"Dick  won't  come.  Nothing  can  make 
him  weaken  I "  she  cried  out,  and  began 
pacing  the  floor  in  feverish  anxiety.  There 
was  another  knock,  and  almost  at  a  bound 
she  reached  the  door  and  opened  it. 

A  man  of  middle  age  entered,  neatly  at- 
tired in  business  clothes,  of  an  exterior  so 

24 


precise  and  formal  that  the  first  glimpse  of 
him  acted  like  a  shower-bath  on  her  nerves. 
He  came  in  carefully,  shutting  the  door  be- 
hind him,  and  not  offering  her  his  hand. 

"  Mrs.  Lorimer,"  he  said — "  or,  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Mrs.  Hatch — you  may  have  forgot- 
ten me.  I  am  Mr.  Cleave,  Mr.  Lorimer's 
lawyer." 

"  I  haven't  forgotten  you,  Mr.  Cleave," 
she  responded,  in  clear,  cutting  tones.  "  It's 
hardly  likely — you  got  him  his  divorce. 
Isn't  he  coming  ?  " 

"  He  is  undecided,"  answered  the  lawyer, 
seating  himself  on  the  edge  of  a  small  up- 
right chair.  "  I  was  to  have  a  few  prelimi- 
nary words  with  you.  Of  course,  madam, 
you  must  know  that  your  letter,  announcing 
your  intended  arrival  in  New  York,  was  a 
considerable  shock  to  my  client.  On  my 
own  part,  I  can  assure  you  that  I  believed 
you  to  be — dead." 

"  Very  sorry  to  disappoint  you,"  she  said, 
curtly  and  with  a  little  curl  of  the  lip. 

"  Mrs. — er — Hatch,  I  had  better  be  frank 
25 


Qntuelcome 


with  you,"  went  on  Mr.  Cleave,  not  in  the 
least  susceptible  to  curls  of  any  sort.  "And 
there  is  nothing  gained  by  long  preamble. 
My  client  at  first  declined,  on  any  terms,  to 
see  you  or  hold  speech  with  you.  Your  re- 
quest seemed  to  him  in  the  highest  degree 
presumptuous.  But,  after  consideration,  he 
agrees  to  do  so,  on  the  absolute  conditions 
that  the  meeting  shall  be  in  my  presence 
and  that  there  shall  be  no  nervous  excite- 
ment, no  recrimination,  no  scenes." 

"  I  never  wanted  anything  less  in  my  life 
than  a  scene  with  him  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  My  client  was  never  a  man  to  avoid  ful- 
filling the  duty  of  -  " 

"  Being  disagreeable  to  someone  down 
in  the  world.  Exactly,"  she  interrupted. 
"  There,  Mr.  Cleave,  don't  trouble  yourself 
with  extolling  Dick  Lorimer  to  me.  I  will 
tell  you  frankly  that,  although  you  were  the 
instrument  of  Fate  to  me,  I  don't  bear  you 
a  personal  grudge.  I  know  you  to  be  a 
severe  man,  but  I  believe  you  are  a  fair  one. 
If  ever  you've  felt  a  moment's  compunction 

26 


(tJntaelcome 


for  your  share  in  turning  a  poor,  friendless 
girl  of  two-and-twenty  adrift  on  the  dark 
river  of  men's  and  women's  mercy,  listen  to 
me  now.  I  want  nothing  on  earth  from  you 
but  a  moment's  belief  in  me.  You  have 
nothing  to  lose  but  a  little  of  that  hard  crust 
with  which  the  world  and  the  habit  of  the 
law  have  surrounded  you.  Believe  in  me, 
Mr.  Cleave  ;  it  won't  harm  you  when  you 
stand  up  to  be  judged.  Believe  in  me,  for, 
though  I  was  bad  and  reckless,  I  always  told 
the  truth." 

Mr.  Cleave  pursed  his  lips  together  till  the 
line  of  them  described  a  half-circle;  he 
hemmed  several  times,  and  tried  not  to  look 
her  full  in  the  face.  At  last,  speaking  to 
the  steam  radiator,  he  said,  in  a  judicial 
voice  : 
r  "  Proceed,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  Hatch." 

Marian,  who  was  by  now  keyed  to  despair- 
ing eagerness,  hurried  on  : 

"You  remember,  on  the  trial,  even  you 
never  accused  me  of  not  having  loved  my 
husband.  I  loved  him  —  too  well;  when  I 

87. 


found  his  fancy  had  wavered  away  from  me, 
to  settle  on  the  person  who  is  now  his  wife, 
1  was  mad  with  jealousy.  I  did  everything 
I  knew  to  win  him  back,  but  my  day  was 
over.  My  little  arts  wearied  him.  If  I  was 
coquettish,  he  was  cold  as  a  stone.  If  I  ex- 
postulated, he  was  bored.  If  I  cried  and 
raved,  he  swore  at  me  and  went  to  the 
club." 

"  That  was  a  long  time  since,  dear  mad- 
am," interposed  Mr.  Cleave,  impersonally, 
"  a  long  time  since." 

"  Oh,  I  know,  but  once  is  forever  to  a  wom- 
an who  loves.  But  hear  the  rest  of  it — a 
plain  story  from  one  who  has  never  forgotten 
a  single  incident  of  that  time,  Mr.  Cleave. 
The  day  Dick  Lorimer  brought  that  woman 
into  our  house,  and  forced  me  to  receive  her, 
I  was  crazy  for  revenge.  I  did  the  wildest 
act  of  folly  a  woman  can  commit.  That 
man — my  husband's  best  friend — who  had 
been  trying  to  make  love  to  me  for  months, 
and  I  laughing  at  him,  but,  all  the  same, 
playing  with  fire,  asked  me  to  punish  Dick 

28 


CJje  antoelcome 


by  going  away  with  him.     I  was  not  twenty- 
three,  remember,  and  still  in  love  with  Dick. 

.  .  .  I  felt  myself  spurned,  humiliated, 
by  my  husband.  ...  I  cared  for  noth- 
ing else.  .  .  ." 

She  did  not  sob,  but  stopped  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, holding  herself  sternly  in  check,  a 
proceeding  that  caused  Mr.  Cleave  to  survey 
the  radiator  with  almost  friendly  regard. 
Presently  she  resumed  : 

"  I  am  putting  it  in  the  fewest,  baldest 
words.  You  know  what  followed.  .  .  . 
I  agreed  to  go  away  with  that  man.  .  .  . 
I  let  him  make  all  the  arrangements.  .  .  . 
I  met  him  at  a  certain  train.  .  .  .  You 
know  it  all,  I  say.  God  knows  you  made 
enough  of  it  in  those  clever  speeches  before 
the  referee.  .  .  ." 

"  Well,  madam  ?  "  said  the  lawyer,  after 
another  pause. 

"  I  want  to  get  you  to  say,  now,  that  you 
believe  I  did  all  that  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
paying  Dick  back  in  his  own  coin.  What 
you  tried  to  show  was  that  I  was  wicked  by 


nature,  and  unfit  to  be  guardian  of  my  child. 
Ah,  Mr.  Cleave,  you  were  very  eloquent !  " 

"  My  good  lady,  I  must  protest ! "  began 
Cleave,  forsaking  the  radiator  to  gaze  at  a 
table  leg.  He  continued  slowly  :  "  I  acted 
upon  my  best  knowledge,  in  the  best  inter- 
ests of  my  client  and  his  child,  and  the  deci- 
sion of  the  referee  was  entirely  fair  and  un- 
biased." 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  when  I  think  what 
other  women  are,  who  still  hold  their  heads 
high  and  are  surrounded  by  their  families,  I 
feel  that  no  one  gave  me  half  a  chance. 
That  letter  I  wrote — that  fatal  fool  of  a  letter, 
by  which  I  hoped  to  touch  Dick's  heart  and 
shame  him  to  repentance — that  sealed  my 
fate !  You  remember  it,  Mr.  Cleave — you 
read  it  aloud  in  court!  Now,  look  here." 
She  ran  across  to  a  trunk,  opened  it,  took 
out  a  parcel  of  letters  and  held  them  up  to 
him. 

"  All  these,  begging  and  praying  to  be  for- 
given for  one  single  act  of  madness ;  swear- 
ing that  I  was  living  alone,  and  in  bitter 

30 


grief  and  penitence.  .  .  .  See,  Mr. 
Cleave !  .  .  .  Just  listen  to  this  one, 
please ! " 

Mr.  Cleave  was  startled  from  his  calm. 

"  Mrs.  Lorimer — Mrs.  Hatch,  I  mean — I 
must  decline,"  he  protested. 

"  Very  well,  then.  Here's  another — the 
same  thing— another — all  beseeching  Dick, 
for  our  child's  sake,  to  forgive  me  and  take 
me  back.  Everyone  he  returned  to  me  un- 
opened, excepting  that  first  one  that  you 
read  aloud.  Ah !  how  terrible  it  sounded  in 
your  voice ! " 

She  threw  the  letters  back  into  the  trunk 
tray,  shut  the  lid,  and  came  back  to  him, 
wiping  her  eyes. 

"  I  regret  what  you  tell  me,  Mrs.  Hatch. 
It  is  a  new  chapter  in  the  case,  certainly; 
very  distressing,  indeed,  but  I  fail  to  see 
what  can  be  gained  by  reverting  to  it  now," 
the  lawyer  said. 

"  I  only  wanted  to  melt  your  heart  a  little," 
Marian  cried,  "  in  order  to  help  me  to  melt 
Dick's." 

31 


antoelcome 


Her  face,  her  attitude,  the  tones  of  her 
voice,  evinced  her  sincerity  and  sorrow. 
Cleave  answered  her  almost  with  anima- 
tion: 

"  Upon  my  soul,  I  believe  you  loved  Lor- 
imer  only  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Mr.  Cleave.  I 
did  love  him,  but  it  took  one  of  those 
Sphinx  women  to  hold  him^-one  of  the 
kind  who  know  how  to  repress  men,  and 
act  with  them  as  cats  do  with  their  prey. 
Like  the  wife  he's  got  now  !  While  I  — 
you  could  always  see  my  heart  in  my 
face.  I  loved  him,  and  I  showed  it. 
It  wearied  him  —  Oh  !  had  I  known  bet- 
ter 

"  Time  passes,  Mrs.  Hatch.  What,  spe- 
cifically, did  you  desire  me  to  do  for  you  ?  " 
interposed  the  caller. 

"  Bring  Dick  here.  Let  me  ask  one  single 
favor  of  him." 

"H'm!  *  Scenes,'  you  know.  And  my 
client  was  so  exact  on  this  point.  I  am 
afraid  I  can  hardly  trust  you." 


antoeieomc  ;fflm 


"  Oh,  yes,  you  can  —  you  can  !  I  won't 
raise  my  voice,  won't  say  one  unpleasant 
thing.  Only  try  me,  Mr.  Cleave  !  " 

She  was  so  desperately  anxious,  so  beau- 
tiful in  her  pleading,  so  much  the  wayward 
girl  of  old,  Mr.  Cleave  could  not  refuse  her. 
He  walked,  with  short,  mincing  steps,  over 
to  the  electric  bell,  and  stood  with  his  finger 
on  the  button. 

"  It  will  be  awkward  for  me  if  I  send  for 
him,  and  you  -  " 

"No  '  ifs  '  —  I  promise,"  cried  Marian. 

Mr.  Cleave  rang. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Mr.  Cleave,"  she  said, 
softly.  "  This  makes  up  for  lots  of  harm 
you've  done  me.  You  can  sleep  better  after 
this  for  thinking  there's  one  poor  little  woman 
the  less  in  the  world  to  cherish  you  as  her 
enemy." 

"  I  recognize  some  of  the  old  Eve  in  you, 
Mrs.  Lor  —  er  —  Hatch,"  said  the  lawyer, 
grimly  smiling.  "  Yours  is  certainly  not  a 
personality  one  easily  forgets." 

"  Nor  one  that  changes,"  she  said,  sighing. 
8  33 


When  the  bell  was  answered  Mr.  Cleave 
gave  directions  that  a  gentleman  called  Mr. 
Lorimer,  then  waiting  below  in  the  recep- 
tion-room of  the  hotel,  should  be  shown  up 
to  No.  1089.  In  the  little  time  that  elapsed 
before  the  new  arrival  the  lawyer  addressed 
himself  to  the  examination  of  a  note-book 
taken  from  his  pocket,  on  the  pages  of 
which  were  inscribed  certain  cabalistic  hiero- 
glyphics that  seemed  to  exercise  his  legal 
mind,  but  were  in  reality  the  very  harmless 
address  of  a  new  bootmaker,  given  to  him 
by  a  man  at  his  club,  and  the  recipe  for  a 
fish  sauce,  communicated  by  a  gastronomic 
friend. 

When  Mr.  Lorimer  entered  the  room  and 
Marian  saw  again  in  the  full  light  of  day 
the  man  who  had  received  the  homage  of 
her  young  heart  so  many  years  before,  she 
experienced  a  sort  of  revulsion  at  her  own 
blind  infatuation  for  an  object  so  unworthy. 
Time  and  self-indulgence,  prosperity  and  a 
material  habit  of  looking  at  things  had 
rubbed  off  all  the  fine  edges  from  his  once 

34 


atrtaelcome 


striking  manly  beauty.  The  flesh  beneath 
his  eyes  had  a  puffy,  purple  look  ;  the  eyes 
themselves  were  lifeless,  the  mouth  had  set- 
tled into  hard  and  pleasure-loving  curves. 
The  fulness  beneath  his  chin  told  the  tale  of 
middle  life,  as  did  the  outline  of  his  formerly 
athletic  figure. 

Slain  at  a  glance  was  Marian's  long-cher- 
ished sentiment  for  the  husband  of  her 
youth.  Although  he  fixed  on  her  a  first 
glance  of  some  surprise  at  her  abiding  grace 
and  freshness,  the  expression  soon  settled  in- 
to one  of  rancorous  resentment  at  her  intru- 
sion into  his  life. 

With  the  feminine  instinct  of  hospitality 
that  nothing  quells,  Marian  invited  him  to  a 
chair  ;  but  without  acknowledgment  of  her 
courtesy,  he  addressed  her  while  still  stand- 
ing near  the  door. 

"  Tell  me  at  once  why  you  presumed  to 
commit  the  impertinence  of  asking  me  to 
call  on  you." 

Marian,  who  had  unconsciously  caught 
up  Adrian's  bunch  of  lilies,  and  stood 

35 


€l)e 


with  them  in   her   hand,   answered,  delib- 
erately : 

"  Because  I  have  heard  that  my  daughter 
is  to  be  married." 


36 


II 

JOU  mean  that  my  daughter  is  to 
be  married,"  Lorimer  said,  with 
cutting  emphasis.  "  How  does 
that  concern  you  ? " 

"  I  read  in  a  paper  I  picked  up  in  San 
Francisco,"  she  answered,  with  a  proud, 
weary  look,  "some  passing  allusion  to  the 
approaching  marriage  of  the  beautiful  Miss 
Gladys  Lorimer,  of  New  York,  daughter  of 
the  eminent  and  wealthy  financier.  Nothing 
more.  Of  course,  I  did  my  best  to  find  out 
further  particulars.  The  people  I  knew  were 
not  of  a  kind  to  be  informed  on  such  points." 
"  Hardly,"  said  Lorimer,  with  a  sneer. 
"  I  did  not  even  see  the  bridegroom's 
name.  You  think  I  have  no  right  to  know 
it,  or  to  care.  But  I  do  care — awfully ! 
All  these  long,  empty  years  I've  lived  on 
the  thought  of  Gladys.  Her  childhood  and 
her  girlhood  have  been  the  playground  of 

37 


my  starved  fancy.  On  every  one  of  her 
birthdays  I've  bought  a  little  pot  of  flowers 
and  watered  it  with  my  tears.  At  Christ- 
mas I've  wandered  in  the  streets,  looking 
through  other  people's  windows  trying  to 
catch  glimpses  of  young  girls,  wondering  if 
she  looked  like  them.  When  I  met  those 
of  her  age  and  station  out  walking  or  driv- 
ing I  stared  at  them  hungrily.  I  envied 
their  mothers  and  their  maids.  I'd  have 
given  a  year  of  my  life  to  dress  Gladys  for 
her  first  ball." 

"  Is  this  maudlin  stuff  what  you  brought 
us  here  to  listen  to  ?  "  asked  Lorimer,  with  a 
shrug. 

Marian  showed  no  resentment.  Her  face 
had  flushed,  her  eyes  had  a  far-off,  dreamy 
look. 

"  Isn't  she  very  young  to  be  married, 
Richard  ? "  she  said,  in  tenderest  accents. 

"  You  forget  yourself,  Mrs.  Hatch  ! "  the 
man  said,  ruffling  like  an  angry  turkey  till 
the  very  veins  of  his  throat  swelled  with  re- 
sentful vanity. 

38 


antoelcome 


"  So  I  did,  Mr.  Lorimer,"  she  answered, 
lightly.  "After  all,  /  was  married  at  her 
age.  I  remember  my  joy  in  my  wedding 
presents  was  like  a  child's  over  new  toys. 
We  weren't  rich  then,  and  they  seemed 
magnificent.  .  .  .  That  brings  me  to 
asking  if  you  will  be  so  good  —  so  very  good 
—  as  to  let  me  send  your  daughter  this  little 
token  I've  bought  for  her  on  her  marriage  ?  " 

She  had  taken  up  the  parcel  recently  ar- 
rived, and  extended  it  beseechingly. 

"  On  no  account.  What  are  you  think- 
ing of?  Allow  her  to  ...  a  present 
from  you  !  Why,  she's  no  idea  you're  — 
Cleave,  the  woman's  mad  —  stark  mad  !  " 
blustered  Lorimer,  backing  to  get  out  of  her 
reach. 

She  dropped  the  parcel  on  the  table 
quickly. 

"  Mr.  Cleave  knows  I  am  not  mad,"  she 
said,  with  spirit,  "  and  you  should.  If  you 
can't  understand  the  natural  impulse  of  ma- 
ternity -  " 

"  That  you  forfeited,  once  and  for  all,"  he 
39 


interrupted,  "  by  throwing  yourself  into  the 
arms  of  that  damned  *  sympathizer,'  who, 
luckily,  is  dead,  though  I  fancy  you've  been 
consoled." 

"  Come,  come,  Mr.  Lorimer,"  said  Cleave, 
warmly,  "  this  won't  do !  You  know  it 
won't  do  at  all ! " 

"  I  don't  mind  him,  Mr.  Cleave  ! "  cried 
Marian,  passionately.  "He  knows  how 
much  truth  is  in  his  insults.  He  knows 
what  my  life's  been  since  I  was  mad — 
driven  so  by  his  cruelty,  neglect,  and  the 
wilful  ignoring  of  every  good  impulse  of  my 
heart.  Like  my  child,  I  was,  when  I  mar- 
ried, motherless.  There  was  no  one  to 
warn  me  of  the  fearful  risk  I  ran.  If  I 
had  known  anything  of  life  and  men  I 
might  have  been  —  safe  —  to-day.  What 
wonder  that  I  am  desperately  anxious 
about  Gladys  ? " 

"Don't  presume  to  put  yourself  in  the 
same  category  with  Miss  Lorimer,  who,  by 
the  way,  profits  by  the  example  and  coun- 
sels of  a  most  competent  adviser." 

40 


<EJnt»elcome 


For  the  first  time  Marian's  self-control 
failed  her.  She  started  as  if  flicked  by  a 
whip,  and  the  angry  tears  rushed  into  her 
eyes. 

"  In  the  person  of  your  wife  ?  "  she  said, 
cuttingly.  "  Thank  you  for  recalling  her  to 
me.  As  I  remember  Mrs.  Lorimer  she  was 
hardly  a  model  for  innocent  youth  —  clever, 
certainly,  at  concealing  compromising  ap- 
pearances —  a  little  vulgar,  a  little  pious,  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  the  punishment  allotted 
in  this  world  to  other  sinners,  so  long  as  she 
herself  was  not  found  out." 

Cleave,  being  human,  smiled  vaguely 
around  the  eyes  at  this,  the  muscles  of  his 
mouth  remaining  quite  firm.  Lorimer,  too 
furious  to  notice  him,  searched  vainly  for  a 
properly  withering  reply. 

Marian's  face  had  taken  on  a  reckless  look, 
and  she  hurried  on  : 

"  I  seem  like  a  ghost  coming  back  and 
hovering  over  your  two  devoted,  connubial 
heads,  don't  I  ?  How  often  I  used  to  say  I 
meant  to  try  that  hovering  and  eavesdrop- 

41 


€l)e 


ping  spirit  business,  if  you  survived  me  ! 
Well,  I've  tried  it,  and  I  don't  find  it  as 
funny  as  I  thought." 

"  Incorrigible  !  The  old  cursed  trifling  !  " 
exclaimed  Lorimer,  turning  his  back. 
"  Cleave,  this  woman's  hopeless  !  I  leave 
you  to  deal  with  her." 

Marian,  running  after  him,  placed  her 
hand  on  his  arm.  There  was  something  so 
childlike  about  her  as  she  pleaded  with  him 
to  forgive  her  rash  speech,  to  listen  to  her 
yet  a  little  while,  that  any  other  man  than 
Lorimer  would  have  insensibly  yielded  a 
point  or  two  before  her  magnetism.  But 
he  preserved  his  harsh,  unyielding  exterior 
as  he  grudgingly  inquired  what  she  had  fur- 
ther to  say. 

Marian  trembled  in  every  limb. 

"  It  is  such  a  little  thing  to  you  to  grant 
what  I've  crossed  the  continent  to  ask,"  she 
said,  with  desperately  imploring  eyes.  "  Let 
me  see  my  child  —  once,  only  once." 

"  Listen  to  that,  Cleave  !  "  said  Lorimer, 
contemptuously.  "After  the  years  of  work 

42 


antoelcome 


we've  had  to  suppress  this  woman  in  the 
child's  memory  -  " 

"  She  remembered  me,  then  ?  "  cried  the 
mother,  thrilling  with  joy. 

"  At  first  we  had  no  end  of  bother  with 
her.  She  was  nervous,  hysterical,  always 
calling  for  you  in  her  sleep,  and  talking  of 
you  to  her  nurses.  But  by  the  judicious 
management  of  her  present  mother  all  that 
nonsense  has  been  squashed.  My  daughter 
is  now  a  healthy  and  normal  girl.  She  be- 
lieves you  to  be  dead,  and,  so  far  as  1  know, 
never  thinks  of  you." 

The  iron  entered  into  Marian's  soul  at 
this,  and  her  head  drooped  forward  pitifully. 

"  Does  she  know,"  she  asked,  faintly, 
"  about  —  my  —  disgrace  ?  " 

"  I  fancy  nobody  has  enlightened  her," 
answered  Lorimer.  "  Old  Agnes,  who  was 
her  nurse  when  you  left,  has  had  entire 
charge  of  her  since,  and  is  still  her  maid. 
The  woman  had  my  strictest  orders  to  never 
mention  you." 

"  Agnes  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hatch,  "  old 
43 


Agnes !  She  was  always  old,  I  think,  and 
dear  and  forgiving.  A  kind  of  moral  feather- 
bed to  throw  one's  self  upon.  Then  she's  had 
Gladys?  Oh,  I'm  glad  !  I'm  glad!  Rich- 
ard, for  God's  sake,  don't  refuse  me  !  I  don't 
ask  to  meet  my  darling  face  to  face.  Let 
me  only  look  at  her  from  a  distance,  feast 
my  eyes  on  her  features,  and  I'll  go  back  as 
I  came." 

"  It's  too  risky,"  said  he,  after  a  moment's 
thought. 

"  Dick,  look  at  my  life ! "  she  pleaded. 
"  Isn't  it  enough  of  a  wreck  to  please  even 
you  ?  Think  what  you  and  Cleave  did  for 
me.  Why,  in  this  town,  where  I  was  born 
and  belong  to  the  best,  there  isn't  a  decent 
house  I  could  walk  into  now — not  one!  It 
seems  a  dream  that  I  once  led  my  set  in  so- 
ciety here;  a  party  wasn't  a  go  without  me. 
When  Mrs.  Dick  Lorimer  left  a  dance  it 
was  over,  and  the  rest  followed  me  out,  like 
sheep,  into  the  dawn,  even  watched  me  get 
into  my  carriage.  Oh  !  I  lived  then " 

She  raised  her  arms  over  her  head,  then 
44 


atttoelcome 


dropped  them  suddenly.  "  Richard,  by  the 
memory  of  that  time,  grant  me  one  look, 
one  little  look,  at  Gladys!  It  can't  hurt 
her,  or  you.  Remember  when  you  first 
lifted  your  baby  from  my  side  and  kissed 
her,  then  me,  and  thanked  me  for  her.  You 
weren't  all  hard  then  —  you  had  a  husband's 
and  a  father's  heart  in  your  bosom,  and  warm 
blood  in  your  veins.  Bad  I  may  be,  but 
you  can't  ever  forget  that  hour.  Richard, 
have  pity!  Think  how  I've  suffered,  expi- 
ated my  sin  !  Try  to  imagine  the  bitter 
loneliness  of  my  solitary  life  since  you  turned 
me  out.  Have  mercy  on  a  poor,  crushed 
woman  !  Let  me  see  my  child  !  " 

While  Cleave  suddenly  found  his  atten- 
tion claimed  by  a  gang  of  workmen  relaying 
the  asphalt  in  the  street  below,  Lorimer 
spoke,  in  a  gentler  tone  : 

"  What  you  ask  is  manifestly  improper. 
Under  no  circumstances  could  you  be  ad- 
mitted inside  my  house." 

"  Inside  or  out,  I  care  not  !  "  she  went  on, 
seeing  her  advantage.  "Anywhere,  so  I 

45 


antoelcome 


catch  one  glimpse  of  my  child  ;  see  her  be- 
fore she  passes  into  the  new  life  and  away 
from  me  forever." 

Lorimer  walked  over  to  Cleave  by  the 
window  and  conferred  with  him  in  whispers, 
with  the  result  that  the  lawyer,  wonderfully 
subdued  in  manner,  left  his  client  and  came 
over  to  sit  by  the  chair  into  which  Marian 
had  fallen,  quivering  with  her  own  vehe- 
mence of  passion. 

"  Mrs.  Hatch,"  he  said,  with  real  feeling, 
"there  are  delicate  questions  involved  in 
what  you  ask.  The  young  gentleman  your 
daughter  is  to  marry  will  presently  be  placed 
in  an  embarrassing  predicament.  It  will  be 
soon  necessary  to  inform  him  of  the  facts  of 
her  mother's  past." 

"  He  might  have  known  them  easily,  if  he 
had  tried,"  she  said,  gloomily.  "  It  was  cer- 
tainly no  mystery  !  The  papers  were  full  of 
it  at  the  time." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  comes  from 
a  distance,"  Cleave  went  on,  smoothly, 
"  and  has  chanced  to  hear  nothing  at  all 

46 


€I)e  antoelcome 


about  the  divorce.  He,  like  the  rest  of 
the  world,  believes  you  to  have  died  long 
since." 

Marian  echoed  him  : 

"  Died  long  since  !  And  so  I  did,  God 
knows  !  " 

"  In  these  cases,"  pursued  the  lawyer, 
"  nothing  comes  of  reviving  old  sorrows  and 
grievances.  My  client  had  already  deputed 
me  to  inform  his  future  son-in-law  of  the 
fact  that  Gladys's  mother  is  living,  though 
unlikely  ever  to  make  herself  known  to  him 
and  his  wife.  We  shall  ask  him,  in  his  own 
time  and  place,  to  tell  his  wife  the  truth. 
Would  you  wish  to  cloud  your  child's  mar- 
riage by  letting  this  sad  news  come  to  her 
now  ?  " 

"  No,  a  thousand  times  no  !  You  know 
it,  Mr.  Cleave!  "  exclaimed  Marian. 

'  '  Then  there  is  another  circumstance  that 
complicates  the  situation.  The  father  and 
the  mother  of  the  bridegroom  reside  at  some 
distance  from  New  York.  They  are  excel- 
lent, influential  people  of  large  wealth,  and 

47 


are  just  now  allied  with  Mr.  Lorimer  in  very 
important  business " 

"  Dick's  business  !  Then  he  has  them  in 
his  net? "  cried  she,  in  irrepressible  satire. 

Mr.  Cleave  went  on,  patiently  : 

"  Those  worthy  people  are  old-fashioned, 
narrow  and  conservative  to  eccentricity.  Did 
they  know  of  this  matter,  they  would  be 
quite  capable  of  violent  public  opposition  to 
the  match,  which  would  thus  stir  up  around 
an  innocent  young  girl  a  noisome  scandal  in 
the  newspapers,  and  bring  you  small  satis- 
faction in  return." 

"  No,  no,  not  that — never  that  1 "  she  said. 

"  Tell  her  all,  Cleave,"  said  Lorimer,  join- 
ing them.  "  She'll  understand  me  better 
then.  Tell  her  that  the  son  is  dependent 
on  his  parents  for  fortune,  and  that  if  she's 
lunatic  enough  to  show  up  now,  she'll  not 
only  disgrace  her  child,  but  impoverish  her. 
Besides,  those  people  will,  like  as  not,  whip 
their  money  out  of  a  venture  that  means 
millions  to  my  family.  Why,  curse  her, 
she'd  ruin  all  of  us ! " 

48 


Clje  antoelcome  jflm 


"  Now  I  fully  understand  you,"  she  said, 
facing  him  contemptuously,  then  turning 
quickly  away.  "  That's  enough,  Mr.  Cleave 
—  I'm  conquered.  I'll  struggle  no  more. 
But  before  you  go,  tell  me,  please  —  not  if 
my  girl's  lover  is  rich  or  well-placed  —  and  I 
don't  care  a  rap  about  his  frumpy  old  parents 
and  their  millions  —  tell  me  if  my  child's  hus- 
band will  be  good  and  true  —  patient  with 
her  faults,  forbearing  with  her  follies  —  if,  in 
short,  he  is  a  gentleman." 

"  Miss  Lorimer's  choice  is  all  that  her 
friends  could  wish,"  the  lawyer  answered. 
"  But,  Mrs.  Hatch,  you  did  not  let  me  finish 
what  I  began  to  say  under  instruction  from 
my  client.  If  he  were  quite  assured  that 
you  would  in  no  way  betray  your  identity, 
he  might  consent  to  let  you  see  Miss  Lori- 
mer  at  a  distance.  There  would  be  the 
condition  that  you  go  away  from  town 
directly  afterward,  of  course.  " 

"  See  her  !  Oh,  my  God  !  "  cried  Marian. 
"Where?  How?"  * 

"  Mrs.  and  Miss  Lorimer  are  in  the  habit 
4  49 


t)atci) 


of  driving  in  the  Park  every  fine  afternoon 
about  four.  If  you  will  go  to-morrow  to  a 
spot  that  will  be  indicated  by  my  client,  you 
may  be  able  to  see  the  young  lady  pass  in  her 
carriage,  without  fear  of  her  detecting  you." 

"  But  how  shall  I  know  my  child  ?  "  she 
asked,  anxiously. 

"  Mr.  Lorimer  will  send  old  Agnes  to 
join  you,  and  point  her  out  to  you.  You 
will  this  evening  receive  a  note  from  me 
containing  full  particulars;  but  there  must 
be  this  clear  understanding,  that  this  is  all 
you  will  ever  ask  of  us." 

"  I  promise  —  anything  !  "  she  cried,  joy- 
ously. "Just  now  I  feel  only  seventeen 
myself.  Calling  for  me  in  her  sleep  !  My 
own  —  my  treasure  !  Old  Agnes  coming  for 
me!  Dear  old  thing!  She  always  loved 
me.  Harm  Gladys  by  thought  or  deed  for 
my  selfish  pleasure?  Oh,  Mr.  Cleave,  I 
can't  speak  to  Richard  Lorimer!  I  don't 
want  to  lose  the  heavenly  warmth  his 
promise  has  put  into  my  heart  ;  but  tell 
him,  please,  that  I'll  do  all  he  asks." 

50 


Over  her  April  face  again  swept  a  torrent 
of  tenderness,  making  it  so  young,  so  radi- 
ant, that  the  two  men  who  had  come  there 
to  scorn  her  went  out  together  in  half- 
shamed  silence. 

Lorimer,  indeed,  had  vaguely  thought  to 
offer  Marian  some  pecuniary  help,  but  on 
looking  about  him  decided  that  her  finances 
must  be  in  a  satisfactory  condition,  since  she 
presented  such  a  good  front  to  the  world. 


51 


Ill 

[HE  Park  presented  a  pretty  and 
unwonted  spectacle  all  that  long 
bright  day  of  May.  For  a  won- 
der, no  boreal  hint  in  the  air 
brought  bronchitis  and  pneumonia  into  the 
train  of  the  various  May  queens  who 
assumed  their  brief  sovereignty  in  spots 
yielded  by  authority  for  the  occasion.  A 
soft  wind  rustled  the  young  leaves  of  the 
trees  and  scattered  the  petals  of  forward 
blossoms  on  the  velvet  turf.  Every  bosk- 
age showed  masses  of  tender  color,  but  for 
once  the  flowers  were  outdone  by  their 
human  rivals. 

Since  before  noon  May  parties  of  children 
from  the  tenement  districts  all  over  town 
had  been  streaming  out  of  trolley  cars  and 
overflowing  into  the  various  approaches  of 
the  Park.  Numbers  of  them  wore  caps  of 
red,  white,  and  blue  and  carried  American 

52 


flJutoelcome 


flags,  walking  in  prim  processions,  led  by 
drum  and  fife,  until  they  reached  the  bits  of 
springy  turf  surrendered  to  them  for  the 
day.  Then  they  relaxed  into  a  very  orgy  of 
Spring  happiness,  running,  tumbling,  slid- 
ing, shouting,  rolling  and  turning  cart-wheels 
on  the  grass.  Some  of  the  bands  were  made 
up  of  children  dressed  in  gala  costumes  of 
old-world  fashion.  Their  faces  revealed 
types  of  every  nationality  of  Europe,  the 
Slav  predominating  ;  an  odd  sight  altogether 
under  the  forest  of  American  liberty-caps. 
Other  little  urchins  and  damsels  were  in 
pathetically  tattered  finery,  footing  it  and 
scampering  with  the  best. 

In  a  lovely  nook  near  one  of  the  main 
driveways  stood  a  little  summer-house, 
whose  trellised  sides  and  steep-pointed  roof 
were  fairly  dripping  with  the  purple  bloom 
of  wistaria.  A  shaded  path  in  front  divided 
it  from  the  road,  and  on  one  side,  in  an 
intensely  verdant  meadow,  stood  a  May- 
pole, the  many-  colored  streamers  of  which 
were  held  by  a  party  of  children  of  the  poor- 

53 


Ontoelcome  Jttr&  l^atcl) 


est  class;  circling  round  the  dancers,  in- 
structing them  in  the  art  of  weaving  the 
ribbons  about  the  pole,  and  generally  polic- 
ing the  crowd,  passed  and  repassed  a  half- 
dozen  young  men  and  girls,  the  active  mem- 
bers of  a  club  for  benevolent  work  in  this 
stratum  of  society.  For  those  left  over 
from  the  dance  were  organized  games  and 
distractions  of  every  kind  that  the  active 
brains  of  the  managers  could  invent.  One 
poor  little  fellow,  in  shoes  a  world  too  big  for 
him,  having  gained  possession  of  a  painted 
balloon,  had  retired  with  it,  in  jealous  rapt- 
ure, to  the  shelter  of  a  clump  of  pyrus 
japonica,  and  was  giving  the  wonder  rein 
above  his  head,  following  its  upward  course 
with  fascinated  gaze. 

"  Take  care,  Johnny-boy  !  "  exclaimed  one 
of  the  managers,  a  charming  young  woman 
in  thin  muslin,  with  a  large  picture-hat 
wreathed  with  nodding  plumes,  who  ob- 
served him  as  she  was  darting  by.  "  Hold 
very  fast  to  your  string.  If  it  gets  away 
from  you,  you're  gone  !  " 


am»elcome  Jftttf, 


But  to  Johnny-boy  the  present  enterprise 
embodied  all  the  sky-soaring  romance  of  his 
six  years  of  East-side  existence  in  his  mother's 
flat.  His  brown  eyes  grew  bigger  as  his  string 
was  tolled  out  from  his  hot  little  dirty  hand  ; 
smiles  widened  his  small  thin  face;  he  felt 
akin  to  a  bird  winging  its  way  into  the  azure. 

A  lady  emerged  at  this  moment  from  the 
screen  of  verdure  dividing  the  playground 
from  the  roadway,  and  looked  about  anxi- 
ously to  identify  the  spot.  When  she  saw 
the  summer-house  and  one  or  two  other 
landmarks  of  which  she  was  in  search,  her 
face  grew  brilliant  with  satisfaction  ;  then,  as 
quickly,  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  Johnny- 
boy,  seeing  this  grand  and  pretty  lady  in 
tears,  looked  at  her  in  astonishment.  His 
glance  aside  was  unfortunate,  since  his  treas- 
ured balloon  took  immediate  occasion  to 
elude  his  grasp  and  speed  away  higher, 
driven  by  the  breeze.  His  look  of  despair, 
seen  only  by  the  newcomer,  caused  her  to 
drop  on  her  knees  beside  him  and  put  an 
arm  around  his  shoulder. 

55 


€l)e  (Unwelcome 


"  Don't  cry,  little  man,"  she  said,  sooth- 

ingly- 

"It  wuz  my  bhme!"  wailed  Johnny; 
"  the  first  I  ever  had  !  " 

"  But  you  can  get  another.  My  balloon 
went  up  long  ago,  and  I  couldn't,"  she  said, 
slipping  into  his  hand  a  silver  piece  that 
brought  joy  to  his  face. 

"  Say,  this'll  buy  two  blunes,  an'  I'll  bring 
you  one,  lady,"  he  observed,  clattering  off  in 
pursuit  of  a  vender. 

The  lady  smiled,  and  her  smile  was  re- 
flected in  the  eyes  of  the  pretty  girl  with  the 
picture-hat,  whom  the  sound  of  Johnny- 
boy's  wailing  had  brought  back  to  the  spot. 

*  '  Thank  you  for  relieving  our  little  chap's 
trouble  so  promptly,"  said  Miss  Lina  Thurs- 
ton,  secretary  of  the  Little  Wings  Club,  to 
the  stranger,  whom  she  at  once  recognized 
as  of  her  own  station.  "  I  have  done  noth- 
ing for  hours,  it  seems  to  me,  but  redress 
wrongs  and  soothe  grievances.  It's  a  little 
world  in  miniature,  this  May  party  of  ours." 

«  You  represent  the  Little  Wings  Club?  " 
56 


entDclcome 


"Yes,  I'm  its  unworthy  secretary.  To- 
day we  flatter  ourselves  we  are  a  distinct 
success.  No  little  boy  has  as  yet  broken  or 
sprained  any  part  of  his  anatomy,  there  have 
been  only  three  fights,  and  no  little  girl  has 
insisted  on  going  home." 

"  From  what  do  you  derive  your  name,  if 
I  may  ask  ?  " 

"  A  fancy  of  one  of  our  vice-presidents, 
Miss  Gladys  Lorimer  -  " 

*  *  Ah  !  "  said  the  strange  lady,  with  a 
sudden  indrawing  of  the  breath. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon;  are  you  ill  ?  "  asked 
Miss  Thurston,  kindly.  "  Wouldn't  you 
like  to  go  and  sit  a  while  in  that  little  sum- 
mer-house, and  look  on  at  our  fun?  " 

"  It's  nothing  but  the  first  heat  of  Sum- 
mer. You  were  going  on  to  tell  me  more 
about  your  club  and  its  vice-president." 

"  She  selected  for  our  motto  the  lines: 

Little  things  on  little  wings 
Bear  little  souls  to  heaven. 

Rather  nice,  isn't  it?     You  know  our  asso- 
ciation is  called  a  fashionable  fad,  but  -  " 

57 


dntoelcome 


"  And  Miss  Lorimer  is  fond  of  char- 
itable work  ?  Is  she  strong  enough  to 
do  it  —  does  she  run  no  risks  in  the  quar- 
ters of  the  town  where  these  children 
live?" 

"You  know  her,  then?"  began  Lina, 
when  a  small  girl  coming  toward  her  engaged 
her  attention. 

"  Miss  Thurston,  Tommy's  pinched  me, 
and  took  away  my  orange." 

"  Coming,  Katy  !  Duty  calls,  so  I  must 
run  away.  If  you  stop  awhile  you'll  see 
them  crown  the  queen,"  she  added,  with  a 
friendly  nod  of  adieu. 

Marian,  left  again  alone,  looked  about  her 
nervously. 

"  It  is  almost  time  for  Agnes,"  she  thought, 
trying  to  still  her  beating  heart  by  pressing 
her  gloved  hand  over  it. 

A  young  man,  very  pleasant  of  face  and 
near-sighted,  came  out  of  a  thicket  of  shrub- 
bery and  stopped  before  her,  taking  off  his 
hat. 

"I  beg  pardon,  but  are  you  one  of  the 
58 


(Untoelcome 


committee?"  he  said,  in  rather  a  helpless 
tone. 

"  No  ;  but  can  I  be  of  use  ?  "  answered 
Mrs.  Hatch. 

"  Thanks,  ever  so  much.  There's  a  little 
Roumanian  girl  over  there  sitting  glued  to 
the  ground,  howling  dreadfully,  and  won't 
tell  what's  the  matter.  What  on  earth  shall 
I  do  with  her?" 

Miss  Thurston,  executing  one  of  her 
swallow  dips  about  the  crowd,  here  returned 
to  the  relief. 

"  Stay  by  her,  Fred,  and  comfort  her. 
It's  your  duty  as  first  vice-president,"  she 
exclaimed,  mischievously. 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  answered  Fred,  visibly  ex- 
hilarated by  her  presence.  "  I  can  do  it  fast 
enough  if  you  keep  me  company." 

"  I  can't,  possibly,"  said  she  ;  "  I'm  *  it  * 
in  kiss-in-the-ring.  Perhaps  you'll  change 
places  with  me,  though." 

"  No,  thanks,"  he  answered,  returning 
manfully  to  his  post.  An  organ-grinder 
just  then  appearing  with  a  monkey  created 

59 


(Untoelcome  jttrg* 


the  usual  diversion,  and  in  the  general  sortie 
of  the  forces  to  surround  him,  Marian  was 
again  left  to  her  own  devices. 

"  I  am  running  too  great  a  risk,"  she 
thought,  ruefully.  "  If  they  knew  what  I 
am  I'd  be  the  hawk  in  the  dovecote.  But 
oh,  what  it  means  to  me  to  hear  my  darling's 
name  spoken  familiarly  among  them  !  "  She 
looked  at  her  watch.  "  Three  minutes  past 
the  hour,  and  Agnes  hasn't  come  !  Oh,  if 
she  should  fail  me  !  " 

The  next  turn  in  her  walk  to  and  fro  re- 
vealed hurrying  toward  her  through  the 
crowd  a  plain,  thick-set  old  woman  with  a 
shrewd,  benevolent  face  and  the  manner  of 
a  privileged  upper  servant  who  is  also  confi- 
dante of  the  family.  Marian  schooled  her- 
self to  resist  the  desperate  impulse  to  throw 
both  arms  around  her,  and  contented  herself 
with  a  long  and  fervent  kiss. 

"  Oh,  Agnes,  Agnes,  Agnes  !  "  she  re- 
peated, yearningly.  "  How  long  since  I've 
seen  your  dear  old  face  !  I'd  like  to  let  all 
the  world  know  what  a  duck  you  are  !  " 

60 


SJntoelcome 


"  My  poor  dear,  my  poor  dear,  quiet  your- 
self. Come  in  the  summer-house  and  sit 
down.  There'll  be  an  officer  stepping  up  by- 
and-by  to  see  what  ails  the  pair  of  us.  There  ! 
there  !  Let  me  look  at  ye,  my  beauty.  Not 
much  changed  —  for  the  better,  if  anything  — 
in  looks." 

"  Agnes,  is  she  coming  ?  "  demanded 
Marian,  as  soon  as  they  were  in  the  seclusion 
of  the  green-  walled  kiosk. 

"  By-and-by,  Mrs.  Lorimer,  my  dear.  Ye 
have  a  wild  look  in  your  eyes  ;  ye  must  con- 
trol yourself." 

"  There,  I'm  controlled,"  said  Marian, 
choking  down  her  emotion.  "  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  throw  myself  like  a  tired  child  into 
your  arms,  and  cry  my  heart  out.  It's  been 
so  long,  Agnes  !  I've  been  so  lonesome  !  " 

"  My  lamb,  I've  never  forgot  ye.  But 
that  I  had  your  child  to  look  after,  I'd  have 
pulled  up  stakes  and  followed  ye  to  Cali- 
fornia." 

"  She  needed  you  more  than  I  did.  I'm 
thankful  she  had  you,"  cried  Marian,  squeez- 

61 


ing  the  time-hardened  hand  under  the  neat 
brown  glove.  "  But  begin,  and  don't  stop. 
Tell  me  everything  about  her  from  the  time 
I  left  her  until  now." 

"No,  my  dear,  I  can't,"  said  Agnes, 
mournfully.  "  He  wouldn't  let  me  come 
to-day  without  a  solemn  promise  I  wouldn't 
talk  about  the  child.  I  wasn't  so  much  as 
to  answer  a  question  about  her." 

"  Cruel !  cruel ! "  cried  Marian.  "  This  is 
more  than  I  deserve." 

"  Don't  give  up,  dear.  Think !  ye're  going 
to  see  her  in  a  minute  !  That'll  comfort  ye 
a  little,  won't  it  ?  While  we're  waiting  tell 
me  about  yerself.  Ye've  found  friends?" 

"  None  of  my  own  sort,"  she  said,  sadly. 

"  Ye  haven't  wanted  for  anything  ? " 

"  You  remember  my  old  knack  at  making 
lampshades  and  painting  fans  ?  Well,  I 
started  a  little  business,  in  time  opened  a 
place  of  my  own  ;  my  ideas  '  took,'  and  I've 
prospered  fairly  well.  I  had  laid  up  quite  a 
little  capital,  and  the  thing  was  growing 
in  my  hands.  Two  weeks  ago,  when  I  read 


€Ije  Ontoelcome 


about  Gladys  going  to  be  married,  the  terri- 
ble longing  to  see  her  overcame  me.  I  sold 
out  my  business  to  my  forewoman,  took  all 
I  had,  bought  some  good  clothes  and  started 
East." 

"  Heedless  as  ever,  bless  her  heart  !  "  said 
Agnes,  surveying  her  companion's  costume 
and  person  admiringly.  "Always  had  the 
touch  with  everything  she  put  on  !  The 
present  madam  isn't  a  patch  on  ye  for  style. 
But  after  ye've  seen  her,  your  child  —  mum's 
the  word,  but  sure  I  can  say  that  —  what  are 
ye  going  to  do  ?  How  in  the  world,  poor 
bird,  are  ye  going  to  live  ?  " 

"  God  knows  !  "  Marian  answered,  drearily. 

"  Where  ?  "  pursued  the  old  woman,  anx- 
iously. 

Marian  did  not  speak,  but  made  a  vague 
gesture  outward  with  her  hands. 

"  I'm  afraid  ye've  done  another  mad  thing, 
my  dear,  to  give  up  a  good  support.  The 
world  isn't  ever  in  a  hurry  to  help  women  to 
help  themselves." 

"  When  was  I  ever  prudent  ?  "  cried  Mrs. 


Hatch.  "  Didn't  money  always  slip  through 
my  fingers  like  water  through  a  sieve  ?  But 
I  don't  care  for  anything  now  except  what  I 
came  here  for.  Let  me  see  my  child  just 
once,  and  I'll  begin  life  all  over  again." 

Agnes  stroked  her  hand. 

"  Poor  child  1  poor  child  ! " 

A  flush  of  pleasure  came  into  Marian's 
cheek. 

"  It  is  so  sweet,  so  precious,  to  be  pitied 
by  a  true  heart,"  she  said,  gratefully.  "  At 
this  moment  I  feel  happier  than  in  years." 

The  two  sat  silent  for  a  little  while,  old 
Agnes  hampered  by  the  injunctions  laid 
upon  her,  Marian  in  a  dream  of  the  past 
evoked  by  her  companion's  voice  and  touch. 
She  was  aroused  from  it  by  a  little  cry  from 
Agnes. 

"There!  there!  She's  coming.  Look, 
dear,  that's  Mrs.  Lorimer's  victoria." 

Entirely  sheltered  from  observation  as  she 
was,  Marian  could  feast  her  eyes  to  her 
heart's  content  on  the  vision  pointed  out  to 
her.  On  the  rear  seat  of  the  approaching 

64 


atrtoelcome 


carriage,  with  its  shining  Kentucky  cobs, 
two  trim  men  on  the  box  and  the  Lorimer 
crest  in  silver  everywhere,  sat  an  older  wom- 
an, on  whom  the  mother's  gaze  wasted  no 
time,  and  a  fair,  youthful  creature,  who  ab- 
sorbed her  attention  utterly.  Tears  rose  to 
Marian's  eyes  and  for  a  moment  obscured  her 
treasure.  Dashing  them  away  impatiently, 
she  looked  again,  and  thanked  God  when  a 
block  in  the  line  of  vehicles  ahead  kept  the 
Lorimer  victoria  longer  in  her  sight. 

"  That  Gladys  !  That  my  nestling,  whom 
I  left  asleep  in  her  crib  ...  so  tall,  so 
beautiful!  .  .  .  Ah,  God!  Agnes!  She 
doesn't  speak  to  the  Sphinx  woman  any 
more  than  is  needful.  They  aren't  intimate, 
as  mother  and  daughter  should  be.  Gladys 
is  absorbed  on  her  own  account.  .  .  .  Oh  ! 
I'm  like  a  beggar  staring  at  a  feast.  I  envy 
that  woman  ;  envy  her  horribly.  It  might 
have  been  my  victoria.  How  I  should 
have  gloried  to  be  seen  abroad  with  my 
angel!  .  .  ." 

"  She's  a  fine,  well-grown  guyrl,  and  a 
5  65 


ffJtttpelcome  jftm 


perfect  lady,  if  I  do  say  it,"  answered  Agnes, 
complacently. 

"  These  tears  again  !  They  must  go.  I 
must  see  her  every  second  of  the  time  al- 
lowed me  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hatch,  desper- 
ately shaking  her  head  to  rid  herself  of  the 
fresh  gathered  mists  before  her  vision. 
"  Agnes,  they're  going  !  .  .  .  Oh,  God  ! 
she  must  not  leave  me  unsatisfied.  Agnes, 
the  time's  too  short  for  the  mother  that 
gave  her  birth.  " 

"  They're  only  going  to  stop  a  little  way 
ahead,  and  the  child  will  get  out  to  join  her 
friends,"  said  Agnes,  passing  a  stout  arm 
around  the  agonized  creature.  Her  own 
old  eyes  could  see  nothing  for  their  quick 
response  to  the  mother's  yearning. 

While  Marian  sat  in  the  arbor,  paying  in 
that  brief  space  of  time  the  bitter  price  of 
her  misdoing  as  she  had  not  done  in  all 
the  years  of  her  exile,  Mrs.  Lorimer's  voice 
was  uplifted  in  exhortation  to  Marian's 
child  : 

"  Gladys,  I  have  really  no  patience  with 
66 


antoelcome 


this  club  business  of  yours  !  I  hesitate 
greatly  to  leave  you  among  the  rabble  of 
children  from  the  East-side.  You'll  get  some 
disease,  I'm  certain,  and  this  is  no  time  for 
you  to  make  experiments  with  your  health." 

"  I  promised  them  to  come,  mamma,"  an- 
swered the  girl,  gently  ;  "  but,  of  course,  if 
you  don't  wish  it,  I  won't  stop." 

"  I  should  think  your  subscription  was 
enough,  and  I  would  give  something  over. 
However,  since  I  see  Miss  Thurston  and 
Dolly  Gay  and  Mrs.  Brenton  are  there,  I 
suppose  you  may  venture  for  a  little  while. 
Only  until  I  go  around  the  drive,  remem- 
ber !  " 

The  victoria  had  halted,  and  Gladys,  un- 
der the  superintendence  of  a  natty  groom, 
had  set  one  slender  foot  on  the  asphalt.  At 
sight  of  her,  the  children,  evident  adorers 
of  their  young  vice-president,  broke  bounds 
and  swarmed  down  to  the  driveway,  followed 
by  the  young  ladies  who  had  them  in 
charge.  There  was  no  holding  back.  Gla- 
dys was  surrounded,  captured,  coaxed  to 

67 


play  wolf.  A  deafening  clamor  filled  the 
air.  All  the  passers-by  smiled  indulgently, 
for  this  was  the  children's  day  in  Central 
Park. 

As  her  conquerors  carried  the  young  girl 
off  to  the  green  slope  from  which  their 
Maypole  soared  aloft,  and  Mrs.  Lorimer, 
with  many  jingling  chains,  drove  reluctantly 
away,  Marian  Hatch  made  a  movement  to 
run  out  of  her  hiding  place,  but  was  arrested 
by  the  reproving  glance  of  her  comrade. 

"  Mrs.  Lorimer,  my  dear — for,  God  save 
us,  I  can't  be  calling  ye  by  the  name  ye  give 
yerself — think  what  ye're  about." 

"You're  right,  Agnes,"  she  said,  falling 
back  on  the  bench.  ' '  Oh,  she  is  coming 
back  this  way." 

"  Keep  quiet,  ma'am,  and  there'll  be  some- 
thing to  reward  ye.  I  wasn't  to  mention 
names,  but  I'll  leave  ye  to  guess  who  it  is 
my  young  lady  has  spied  walking  down  that 
path  that  crosses  below  us.  Who  is  it  she'd 
run  to  meet  like  that,  if  not  her  future  hus- 
band, bless  her  soul !  " 

68 


CUntcelcome 


Agnes,  brimming  with  pride  and  impor- 
tance, indicated  by  a  gesture  the  direction 
in  which  she  desired  Marian  to  look,  and  the 
latter,  with  eagerness  and  jealousy  com- 
bined, turned  to  behold  —  Jack  Adrian  ! 

Jack  Adrian,  to  whom  her  child  fluttered 
like  a  homing  pigeon  —  Jack  Adrian,  between 
whom  and  herself  she  had  voluntarily  opened 
the  gulf  of  separation  ! 

How  could  she  have  dreamed  that  this 
comrade  of  her  later  days,  this  man  whose 
honest  belief  in  her  had  been  like  a  spring 
in  the  desert  of  her  life,  this  fond  lover,  who 
had  yet  made  her  feel  the  bitter  sense  of 
her  unfitness  to  be  spoken  to  about  his  be- 
trothed, was  the  master  of  Gladys's  des- 
tiny? 

As  she  stood  staring  at  the  two  with  start- 
led eyes,  they  remained  for  a  moment  so 
near  her  on  the  path  below  she  could  not 
but  hear  their  talk,  simple  in  phrasing,  but 
freighted  with  the  intonation  of  happy 
lovers. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  —  "  Gladys  began. 
69 


"  Afraid  of  what  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  into 
her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  that  I  shouldn't  be  let  stop — and 
then  that  you  wouldn't  get  here,"  she  said, 
blushing  under  his  gaze. 

"  I  only  came  to  say  I  couldn't  come,"  he 
answered,  laughing,  "and  to  get  this  look 
at  you  to  carry  me  on  till  evening." 

"Foolish  boy!  All  that  long  way  up- 
town for  me  ? " 

"  No,  for  the  Club,  if  you  like  that  bet- 
ter." 

"Come,  then,  you  must  show  yourself 
for  a  minute.  Too  bad !  There's  mamma 
in  the  victoria,  coming  back." 

"  Soon  there'll  be  no  mamma  to  come  be- 
tween us,"  he  said,  smiling.  "  I'll  chaperon 
you,  and  you'll  chaperon  Dolly  and  Lina, 
you  see." 

"That  will  be  such  fun!  But,  really, 
Jack,  I'm  ashamed  of  speaking  so  about 
Mrs.  Lorimer.  She  has  done  her  best  for 
me,  I'm  sure." 

"  But  her  best  is  oppressive,  as  we  know." 
70 


dJntoelcome 


"  If  she  were  my  own,  my  very  own 
mother,  I  shouldn't  feel  so,"  the  girl  said, 
with  a  sigh.  They  had  started  to  walk  back 
to  rejoin  the  little  group  around  the  May- 
pole, and,  in  passing,  Gladys's  voice  came  to 
her  mother's  ear  so  distinctly  that  the  listen- 
ing woman  involuntarily  stretched  out  her 
arms  in  answer. 

But  the  voices  passed,  receded,  and  di- 
rectly afterward  she  saw  Mrs.  Lorimer  drive 
up,  reclaim  her  companion,  greet  Adrian 
with  effusive  graciousness  as  he  put  Gladys 
into  her  place,  and  sit  waving  exaggerated 
farewells  to  the  rest  of  the  club  committee 
assembled  on  the  knoll  above.  Whatever 
might  be  the  measure  of  regard  cherished 
by  Gladys's  friends  for  her  stepmother,  they 
omitted  none  of  the  forms  of  respectful 
salutation  in  her  direction.  The  stir  of  re- 
bellion against  this  condition  of  affairs  made 
Marian  sick  and  cold.  The  horrible  differ- 
ence between  the  lots  of  the  two  women 
— one  of  whom  had  sinned  and  accepted 
the  consequence,  the  other,  having  sinned 

71 


antoelcome  jflm 


equally,  yet  successfully  hidden  her  secret 
—  smote  her  poignantly.  For  a  moment 
her  sense  of  the  injustice  of  Fate  obscured 
even  her  feeling  for  her  child. 

But  when  the  footman  sprang  up  beside 
the  coachman,  and  the  victoria  with  the 
Lorimer  crest  and  liveries  was  under  way; 
while  Jack  Adrian  stood,  hat  in  hand,  smil- 
ing at  Gladys,  who  looked  back  at  him  with 
the  innocent,  happy  expression  of  a  young 
child  that  has  gained  its  heart's  desire  —  then 
a  realization  of  what  she  was  losing  came  to 
Marian. 

"  My  child  !  my  child  !  my  child  !  "  was 
all  she  could  say.  But  the  look  in  her  face 
alarmed  Agnes  more  than  anything  that 
had  gone  before.  It  was  plain  that  the  poor 
woman  was  tried  beyond  endurance  and 
hardly  responsible  for  anything  she  might 
do.  She  suddenly  ran  out  of  the  summer- 
house,  Agnes  clutching  her  and  pleading 
with  her  to  remain  until  under  self-con- 
trol. 

"  Agnes,  you  don't  understand,  '  '  she  ex. 
72 


claimed.  '  *  It's  the  last  time  I  shall  see  her ! 
I  have  looked  my  last  upon  my  child ! 
Would  you  not  pity  any  mother  who  was 
turning  away  from  her  child's  grave  ?  " 

The  nurse,  seeing  her  thus  half-distraught, 
clasped  her  hands,  praying  for  the  interposi- 
tion of  Christ  and  Mary  to  save  the  pool- 
soul  from  some  desperate  act.  And  just 
then,  straight  along  the  path  into  which  Ma- 
rian had  strayed,  came  Adrian,  hurrying 
back  to  his  day's  work,  in  which  the  meet- 
ing with  Gladys  had  been  a  sunny  episode. 

As  Mrs.  Hatch  beheld  him  the  full  mean- 
ing of  their  relative  positions  flashed  through 
her  mind,  arousing  the  desire  to  shelter  Gla- 
dys at  all  hazards  by  concealing  their  rela- 
tionship. 

"  I  have  been  mad;  now  I  am  sane,"  she 
said,  marshaling  her  nerve-forces  to  guide 
her  in  the  inevitable  meeting.  Adrian, 
when  he  saw  Mrs.  Hatch  standing  there  be- 
fore him,  holding  out  her  hand  as  she  would 
have  done  at  any  time  during  their  recent 
friendly  companionship,  was  not  glad  of  the 

73 


OntDelcome  jttt% 


encounter.  She  came  too  suddenly  into  the 
arena  of  thoughts  fully  filled  with  his  love 
and  eager  anticipations  of  soon  having  Gla- 
dys to  himself.  Since  they  had  parted,  the 
day  before,  he  had  reverted  to  her  more 
than  once,  with  mingled  feelings.  If,  when 
they  had  arrived  together  in  New  York, 
anyone  authorized  to  do  so  had  asked  him 
who,  critically  speaking,  was  the  most  fas- 
cinating woman  he  had  ever  met,  he  would 
have  answered,  Mrs.  Hatch.  She  had  piqued, 
entertained,  charmed  him  during  the  days 
of  their  enforced  companionship  on  the  Pull- 
man car.  But  there  had  been  no  disloyalty 
to  Gladys  in  that  admiration.  He  had  al- 
ways kept  this  dear  little  guileless  love  of 
his  in  a  walled  garden  in  his  thoughts. 

Marian's  sad  story,  her  impulsive  confi- 
dence, the  glimpse  she  had  given  him  of  her 
hapless  life,  had,  as  we  have  seen,  excited  his 
loyal  sympathy.  But  after  he  had  gone  out 
of  her  impelling  presence,  the  natural  revul' 
sion  had  come.  He  wanted  no  more  of  a 
woman  whose  history  was  inscribed  upon 

74 


fllntoelcome 


such  a  scroll.  At  present,  all  his  ideas  were 
tinged  with  rose  color,  his  hopes  and  manly 
ambitions  fixed  on  home  and  hearthside,  wife 
and  children,  the  sanctity  of  the  marriage  tie. 
He  wanted  nothing  in  common  with  one 
who  had,  whatever  her  temptation,  in  her 
own  case  deliberately  dragged  in  the  dust 
the  fair  fabric  of  marital  honor.  The  more 
he  reflected  on  such  as  Gladys,  the  more 
repellent  seemed  such  as  Mrs.  Hatch.  If 
ever  he  should  meet  the  poor  woman  again, 
he  would  not  stay  his  hand  from  doing  her  a 
service;  but  just  now  he  did  not  want  her  in 
Gladys's  kingdom  —  emphatically  not  ! 

He  lifted  his  hat,  and  spoke  to  her  pleas- 
antly, forcing  himself  to  pause  for  a  moment 
and  express  the  hope  that  she  was  feeling 
better  than  yesterday  and  enjoying  the  open 
air,  adding  his  wish  that  she  might  have  had 
good  news. 

"  Yes,  I  have  had  good  news  —  of  a  sort," 
she  said,  smiling,  under  her  veil,  so  that  he 
felt  quite  relieved  regarding  her. 

"  My  best  congratulations,"  he  said,  hur- 
75 


ftntoeicome 


riedly  ;  "  and  you  won't  mind  my  leaving 
you  in  rather  a  hasty  fashion?  The  truth  is, 
I  have  no  right  to  be  here  now.  A  business 
appointment  of  some  importance  awaits  me 
at  my  office." 

"  Don't  let  me  keep  you.  Good-by," 
she  said,  brightly,  and  again  their  hands  met 
and  parted. 

For  days  Marian  had  been  feeding  on  his 
comradeship.  Their  exchange  of  ideas  had 
been  intimate  and  continued.  She  had  rec- 
ognized her  power  over  him,  and  rejoiced  in 
it  in  true  womanly  fashion.  Now  that  power 
had  vanished  utterly.  She  herself  had  de- 
stroyed it.  Her  quick  intuition  read  in  his 
mind  relief  to  be  rid  of  her. 

And  worst  of  all,  he  was  to  be  the  hus- 
band of  her  child.  But  she  had  not  betrayed 
herself  !  Thank  heaven  for  that  ! 

Old  Agnes,  coming  up  to  her,  did  not 
hide  her  surprise  at  what  she  had  wit- 
nessed. 

"  My  dear,  I  am  that  taken  aback  —  who'd 
have  thought  ye  knew  my  young  lady's 

76 


antDelcome 


sweetheart  !  "  she  said,  wonder  puckering  her 
face. 

"  I  know  him,  but  he  does  not  suppose 
that  I  ever  laid  eyes  on  Gladys,"  Marian 
hastened  to  explain. 

"  And  ye're  satisfied  with  her  choice  ?  He's 
rich  and  a  grand  family,  too,  they  say,  and  a 
high  education,  and  a  bonny  lad  to  look  at, 
don't  ye  think?" 

"Yes,  Agnes.  I  think  so.  Gladys  is 
luckier  than  ever  her  mother  was,  for  he  is 
all  you  have  said,  and  .  .  .  good.  He'll 
never  let  harm  come  near  her." 

"Mrs.  Lorimer,  my  dear,  ye  are  getting 
white.  Come  back  into  the  summer-house 
and  sit  down  and  use  my  salts.  '  ' 

"  Don't  call  me  that  !  Call  me  Mrs.  Hatch. 
It's  all  I've  a  right  to.  Oh,  Agnes,  my  heart 
is  breaking  !  " 

"  That's  right,  cry  it  out,  my  dearie.  I'm 
only  allowed  an  hour  with  ye,  but  I  do  hate 
to  go  and  leave  ye.  There's  a  bit  of  time 
yet." 

"  Agnes,  don't  forsake  me  !  I  feel  as  if  I 
77 


fttrtoelcome 


were  on  a  wreck,  and  you,  in  the  last  life- 
boat, leaving  it  without  me.  " 

"  My  lamb!  my  poor,  sorrowing  lamb!  " 
muttered  the  old  woman,  drying  her  eyes. 

Marian  seized  her  arm  and  said  fiercely  in 
her  ear  : 

"Agnes,  if  I  die  for  it,  I  must  see  her 
nearer." 

"  What  can  I  do,  dearie  ?  Ye  told  the 
lawyer  if  ye  saw  her  once  'twould  do  ye." 

"  What  do  lawyers  know  about  a  mother's 
heart  ?  "  she  cried.  "  I  said  so,  and  I  meant 
it  ;  but  this  glimpse  of  her  has  aroused  within 
me  a  passion  of  longing  to  be  close  to  her,  to 
speak  to  her,  no  matter  how  or  where.  Just 
think  of  all  the  years  I  missed  —  all  those 
baby  years  of  her  precious  life  !  I  can't  get 
them  back.  No  matter  what  I  do,  I  can't  get 
them  back.  It  always  drove  me  crazy  when 
I  sat  working  —  the  thought  of  what  I  was 
missing  !  I  love  children  with  their  little 
nestling  hands  and  trustful  touches,  .  .  . 
and  I  left  my  own  to  strangers  !  Agnes, 
you  know  what  I  must  be  feeling.  She's 

78 


Cije  ftntoelcome 


mine,  mine  !  spite  of  all,  she's  mine  1  God 
gave  her  to  me.  We  oughtn't  to  be  sepa- 
rated, any  more  than  flesh  from  blood.  Oh  ! 
I  could  fight  like  a  tigress  to  hold  her  one 
moment  in  my  arms." 

While  she  paused,  drawing  long  breaths 
of  pain,  the  children  away  over  by  the  May- 
pole began  to  sing. 

"  Listen  to  them.  They  do  that  to  mock 
me,  Agnes,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  There,  there,"  began  Agnes,  patting  her 
hand  soothingly;  and  insensibly  Marian's 
heart  opened  to  the  comfort  of  her  touch. 
When  she  could  speak  more  coherently  she 
faced  the  old  nurse  with  imploring  eyes. 

"  Help  me,  Agnes.  If  you  want  to  die 
happy  think  of  some  way  in  which  I  can  get 
near  my  child  —  touch  her  dress,  even.  When 
she  goes  to  her  husband  my  last  chance  will 
be  gone.  He  won't  give  me  an  opportunity 
to  meet  her,  even  though  he  doesn't  know 
my  claim  on  her.  You  are  my  one  hope. 
Think,  invent  some  way  to  get  me  inside 
that  house." 

79 


Otttoelcome 


Agnes  sat  up,  alarmed. 

"  Inside  that  house,  dearie  ?  It's  not  to  be 
thought  of." 

"  I  want  to  see  her  amid  her  bridal  prepa- 
rations, to  carry  away  some  little  pictures  of 
her  innocent  maidenhood,  to  photograph  her 
on  my  memory  before  she  becomes  a  wife 
and  mother,  when  I  shall  never  dare  intrude 
on  her  again.  Oh,  Agnes  !  it's  as  if  I  stood 
stretching  out  my  hands  to  you  to  keep  me 
from  falling  into  a  pit." 

"  How  can  I,  child  ?  It's  as  much  as  my 
place  is  worth;  but  I  don't  mind  that. 
When  she  goes,  the  light  of  that  house  is 
snuffed  out,  sure." 

"  Couldn't  I  come  there  carrying  some- 
thing that's  expected  for  the  wedding  ?  " 
cried  Marian,  her  fancy  leaping  over  all  dan- 
gers and  difficulties. 

"  Ye  were  always  such  a  one  for  ideas,  an' 
no  fear  in  your  body,"  said  the  nurse,  irres- 
olute, sorely  tempted,  yet  following  Marian's 
lead,  as  had  always  everyone  who  came 
within  the  sphere  of  her  influence. 

80 


OJntoelcome 


"  Think,  Agnes  ;  think  !  " 

"  There's  the  wedding  gown  to  come  home 
to-morrow  from  Madame  Collette's.  There's 
nothing  to  prevent  me  fetching  it  away  in  a 
cab.  The  madame  knows  me  well,  and  that 
I've  waited  on  my  young  lady  there  at  all 
her  fittings.  Then,  if  I  had  ye  in  the  cab  — 
but  oh,  no,  child  !  what  am  I  dreamin'  of  !  " 

"  Who's  afraid,  Agnes  ?  "  exclaimed  her 
fellow-  conspirator,  joyfully  "  It  strikes  me 
that's  a  perfectly  feasible  idea.  I  wait  in  the 
cab  at  Collette's  till  you  come  out  with  the 
box  ;  we  drive  to  Mr.  Lorimer's  house  ;  you 
go  in  at  the  basement  door,  while  I  present 
myself  boldly  at  the  front  door,  with  the  box, 
as  a  woman  from  the  dressmaker.  What 
could  be  plainer  sailing?  You  wash  your 
hands  of  me,  and  leave  me  to  do  the  rest." 

"No,  no,  dearie;  it  won't  do,"  declared 
Agnes,  in  a  discouraged  tone,  "  The  risk's 
too  great." 

"  There  are  none  of  my  old  servants  there 
except  yourself  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  one.  The  master  took 
6  81 


cUtttoelcome  $rtr& 


good  care  of  that.  There  ain't  one  of  these 
we  have  now  ever  heard  of  the  first  Mrs. 
Lorimer.  But  if  ye  met  him  or  her  !  Just 
think  of  it  !  " 

"  Agnes,  I  take  the  risk,  I  tell  you,"  ex- 
claimed Marian,  her  voice  sharp  with  eager- 
ness. 

There  was  another  long  pause,  filled  in  by 
the  sound  of  the  children's  singing. 

"  Well,  Agnes  ?  "  Marian  said  at  last. 

"  I  can't,  I  tell  ye.  I  don't  dare  !  "  said 
the  woman,  stubbornly. 

Marian  drew  back  with  a  quick,  despairing 
gesture.  "  Then  I  '11  end  my  bother  some 
other  way,"  she  said,  in  a  somber  whisper. 

"  My  dear,  my  dear,  whatever  are  ye 
hinting  at  ?  "  cried  the  alarmed  nurse. 

"  It  would  really  be  the  best  way,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Hatch,  gaining  composure  as 
she  went  on.  "  Often  and  often  I've 
thought  of  it,  but  I  wanted  to  live  till  I'd 
seen  her.  Now  that  I've  seen  her,  for  God's 
sake  tell  me  what  you  think  I've  got  to 
hang  on  for?  Listen,  Agnes.  I've  been 

82 


conscious  lately,  more  than  once,  of  a  pain 
like  an  iron  band  across  my  heart.  I  saw  a 
doctor  in  San  Francisco,  and  he  tried  to 
dress  his  verdict  in  soothing  words,  but  I 
know  what's  here."  She  held  her  hand 
against  her  side.  "  A  sudden  joy,  a  sudden 
sorrow,  .  .  .  and  I  may  go.  No  pain  par- 
ticularly, I  believe — so  it's  worth  waiting 
for.  But  life's  been  so  hard  on  me,  Agnes, 
so  unusually  inclined  to  pull  me  up  by  the 
check-rein  at  every  turn,  that,  a  little  time  ago 
I  formed  the  habit  of  carrying  around  with 
me  something  of  which  it  would  be  conven- 
ient and  simple  for  me  to  be  supposed  to 
have  taken  an  overdose,  .  .  .  after  mak- 
ing arrangements  for  a  decent  ending  and  a 
paragraph  in  the  newspapers  that  will  not 
compromise  anybody." 

"  Mrs.  Lorimer,  ye'd  never  mean  it ! " 
"  Yes,  Agnes ;  and  what  is  more,  I'll  do 
it  now  if  you  refuse  me  the  last  desperate 
chance  I  have  to  see  my  child  again.     You 
know  I  generally  keep  my  word. " 

"  Oh !  ye  poor  thing,  don't  ye   see   my 
83 


fttvtoelcome 


heart's  bleeding  for  ye  ?  "  cried  Agnes. 
"  It  ain't  threats,  however  dreadful,  as 
would  drive  me  against  my  duty.  It's 
pity  for  ye  that's  choking  me.  I  just 
feel,  if  ye  went  away  and  never  saw  her 
more,  that  I  couldn't  sleep  o'  nights.  If 
I  could  only  be  sure  of  ye  controlling  your- 
self- 

"Try  me,"  said  Marian. 

"  Ye  know  'twould  be  awful  if  he  found 
us  out.  That  wouldn't  move  ye  a  mite,  but 
if  'twas  known  on  the  poor  child  -  " 

"Don't  you  feel  that  she's  what  would 
keep  me  acting  my  part  to  the  bitter  end  ?  " 
pleaded  the  mother. 

"  I  never  was  so  put  about  in  all  my  born 
days  —  never,  never  I  "  cried  Agnes. 

A  gleam  of  old-time  mirth  flashed  into 
Marian's  eyes  —  always  it  had  been  Agnes's 
habit  to  sound  a  last  protest  in  these  words 
before  yielding  to  demands  on  her  in  the 
nursery. 

"The  saints  forgive  me  if  I'm  sinnin'  to 
save  a  poor  mother's  heart  from  breakin'!  " 

84 


Ontoelcome  $cvc&. 


added  the  old  woman,  tears  raining  down 
her  cheeks. 

Marian's  face  became  radiant.  In  the  re- 
action from  despair  to  respite,  her  nature,  all 
extremes,  sprang  up  the  gamut  of  hope  as 
though  she  had  never  known  a  rebuff  of 
fate.  Youth  came  back  to  her  starry  eyes, 
bloomed  on  her  cheeks,  laughed  on  her 
vivid  lips.  As  the  nurse,  almost  terrified  by 
the  sudden  change,  looked  at  her,  beseeching 
her  to  go  no  further,  Mrs.  Hatch  sprang  to 
her  feet  and  clapped  her  hands  in  joy. 

At  that  moment  a  little  band  of  children, 
shut  out  by  numbers  from  the  Maypole 
ring  on  the  slope  above,  and  including 
Johnny-boy,  came  scampering  down  to  find 
a  level  place  for  a  dance  on  their  own  ac- 
count. Wild  with  hysterical  delight,  Marian 
darted  out  to  direct  their  revels,  and  finally, 
amid  their  screams  of  pleasure,  joined  hands 
in  their  circle,  dancing  gaily  and  gracefully 
till  they  were  out  of  breath. 


85 


IV 

IACK  ADRIAN  sat  in  the  morn- 
ing-room of  his  future  father-in- 
law's  house,  in  close  conversation 
with  that  astute  gentleman,  who, 
for  purposes  of  his  own,  had  preferred  to 
give  their  talk  an  air  of  intimacy  and  domes- 
ticity by  selecting  for  it  this  familiar  place 
rather  than  the  formal  precincts  of  the  li- 
brary. Here,  during  their  engagement,  the 
lovers  had  been  wont  to  retreat  from  fear 
of  interruption  below  stairs ;  here  breathed 
a  thousand  softening  voices  of  their  past. 
But  in  spite  of  Mr.  Lorimer's  plans,  the 
young  man's  face  wore  no  mild  or  placable 
expression.  His  brow  was  knit,  his  head 
was  bowed  on  his  hand,  he  bore  every  ap- 
pearance of  one  who  has  just  received  an 
appreciable  shock.  Lorimer,  on  his  side, 
was  visibly  nervous  and  full  of  an  anxiety  he 
masked  as  best  he  might.  He  sat  in  an 

86 


Ontoelcome 


armchair,  twisting  a  paper-cutter  made  of 
carved  ivory,  until  it  snapped  and  was  tossed 
away  impatiently. 

The  room  was  one  of  those  luxuriously 
fitted  quarters  of  a  modern  establishment, 
where,  at  odd  moments,  the  family  is  wont 
to  rendezvous  and  the  ladies  sit  note-writ- 
ing, gossiping,  and  toying  with  Penelope 
webs  of  needle-  work.  A  deep  bay  window 
in  the  front,  through  whose  liberal  panes 
were  revealed  glimpses  of  the  Park  across 
the  Avenue,  was  so  screened  and  latticed 
with  growing  vines  and  big-leaved  plants  as 
to  form  a  bowery  retreat. 

Couches  and  fauteuils  of  old-rose  velvet, 
cushioned  abundantly,  were  arranged  to  hold 
their  sitters  prisoner,  since  at  the  elbows 
stood  little  tables  with  electric  reading- 
lamps,  laden  with  the  newest  books  and 
periodicals. 

A  large  table  in  the  center  bore  writing 
implements  of  silver,  candle-  sticks,  paper- 
cases,  book-racks  and  framed  photographs 
without  end,  with  tall  silver  and  crystal 

87 


SJntBelcome 


vases  containing  red  roses  and  white  lilac. 
Low  bookcases  ran  around  walls  hung  with 
greenish  brocaded  stuff  and  adorned  with 
water-colors  and  choice  etchings  and  engrav- 
ings. 

To  Jack  the  whole  of  the  large,  bright, 
joyous-looking  room  was  so  eloquent  of  his 
lady-love  he  could  not  bear  now  to  look 
around  him,  carrying  the  new  thoughts  of 
her  recently  imparted  to  his  mind.  The 
voice  of  Mr.  Lorimer  grated  on  him  as  it 
had  never  done  before,  when  after  a  brief 
silence  he  again  began  to  speak  : 

"  And  there,  my  dear  Jack,  is  my  version 
of  the  story  Cleave  broached  to  you  last 
night  ;  an  unpleasant  one,  I  grant,  for  a  man 
to  hear  on  the  eve  of  his  marriage,  but— 
he  shrugged  elaborately  —  "  what  would  you 
have  ?  Everybody  nowadays  has  some  sort 
of  a  shilling  shocker  in  his  family.  Suppose 
the  closet  doors  of  most  people  we  know 
were  to  suddenly  spring  open  and  the  hid- 
den skeletons  pop  out  !  By  Jove,  we'd  have 
a  grisly  time  of  it  !  Imagine  them  meeting 

88 


on  common  ground  for  a  witches'  Sabbath ! 
The  unmentionable  wife  or  sister  or  daugh- 
ter joining  hands  with  the  son  or  husband 
or  brother  who's  forty  fathom  deep  with  an 
ugly  scandal  tied  to  his  neck,  like  a  stone  to 
a  drowned  dog  !  Come,  cheer  up,  old  chap ! 
This'll  never  make  any  difference  to  you. 
The  woman's  bound  to  keep  dark.  She 
hasn't  a  ghost  of  a  show  among  people  who 
used  to  know  her.  Besides,  she's  been  mum 
so  long  there's  nothing  to  fear  from  her  now." 

"  Not  while  Gladys  remained  with  you, 
perhaps ;  but  the  change  of  estate  may  be  a 
temptation.  However,  that's  not  the  only 
thing.  It's  that  I  can't  bear  to  associate  the 
thought  of  such  a  loathsome  thing  with 
Gladys — with  my  wife." 

"  There  spoke  the  son  of  your  Puritan 
forebears,"  said  Lorimer,  with  a  short  laugh. 
"  It  won't  do — wearing  that  buff  jerkin  in  a 
society  like  ours.  Put  it  off,  my  lad — put  it 
oif !  But  this  much  I  can  assure  you — the 
child  you're  marrying  inherits  little  from 
her  mother.  She  is  gentle,  loving,  well- 

89 


antoelcome 


balanced,  self-controlled,  as  straight  as  a 
string  and  as  clean  as  a  whistle.  If  it  had 
been  my  luck  to  get  one  of  that  kind  in  my 
first  venture,  I'd  not  have  had  this  cursed 
story  to  tell  you  now." 

"  Mr.  Lorimer  —  pardon  me,"  said  Adrian, 
in  his  intense  fashion  ;  "  did  you  give  that 
unfortunate  woman  the  benefit  of  every 
doubt  ?  " 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  have  her  letter  own- 
ing up  to  the  whole  thing  ?  "  exclaimed  Lori- 
mer, irritably.  "  What's  sauce  for  the  goose 
is  sauce  for  the  gander,"  was  the  intent  of 
her  ladylike  experiment. 

"  I  know.  Mr.  Cleave  gave  me  a  copy  of 
it  to  read,"  said  Adrian,  flinching.  "  But  it 
struck  me  as  the  wail  of  one  hardly  responsi- 
ble for  her  actions  —  half-crazed  by  jealousy." 

"  Come,  come,  Adrian,  you  are  a  man  of 
the  world.  You  must  see,  if  we  judged 
women  by  our  standard,  domestic  life  would 
go  to  smash  utterly.  Her  case  was  fairly 
tried  by  the  best  talent  in  the  land,  and  went 
against  her  from  the  first.  The  reading  of 

90 


that  letter  before  the  referee  made  tatters  of 
her  reputation.  She  seemed  to  be  dazed, 
offered  almost  no  defense,  slunk  away  into 
hiding,  and  has  stayed  there  till  now.  No, 
Jack,  no  weakening  to  her.  My  motto  is, 
if  a  woman  once  does  wrong,  believe  the 
worst  of  her,  and  throw  her  overboard. 
However,  I've  got  the  law  with  me,  and  on 
that  I  stand." 

"  It  is  all  abhorrent  to  me,"  answered 
Adrian,  gloomily.  "  I  think,  if  you  please, 
we  will  never  dig  up  this  matter  again. " 

"  Agreed ! "  exclaimed  Lorimer,  with  a 
look  of  relief.  "  I  am  glad  to  have  done 
with  it.  Let  us  have  a  brandy  to  take  the 
taste  of  the  resurrection  business  out  of  our 
mouths. " 

He  gave  an  order  to  a  servant  who  ap- 
peared in  answer  to  his  ring,  meanwhile 
watching  Adrian  narrowly  and  with  evident 
nervousness.  After  he  had  partaken,  alone, 
of  a  liberal  portion  of  the  contents  of  a  small 
carafe,  his  spirits  seemed  to  rebound. 

"  I'm  doubly  glad,  my  dear  boy,"  he  said, 
91 


antoelcome  j 


"that  you  agree  with  Cleave  and  me  this 
most  regrettable  matter  should  not  be  men- 
tioned to  your  excellent  father  and  mother." 

"  I  can  imagine  nothing  more  unfortunate 
than  to  do  so.  If  know  they  must,  let  it  be 
later  on.  Now,  I  conceive  my  duty  to 
shelter  Gladys  to  be  higher  than  that  of 
letting  them  know  the  truth." 

"  Nobly  said  !"  exclaimed  Lorimer,his  eyes 
flashing  satisfaction. 

"  I  hardly  think  you  could  realize  the  con- 
sequences were  I  to  speak  now." 

Lorimer  coughed.  In  his  heart  he  felt 
that  he  realized  them  thoroughly.  "  Old 
school  Blue  Lights,  eh  ?  "  he  said,  attempt- 
ing j  ocularity.  "  They  might,  in  plain  words, 
be  inclined  to  kick  against  the  match." 

"They  would  certainly  oppose  it,  and 
withdraw  their  countenance,"  said  Adrian, 
walking  to  and  fro.  "  For  myself,  I'd  care 
not  a  whit  if  they  didn't  give  the  money  they 
have  promised  us  to  begin  upon.  I  could 
trust  to  my  own  efforts  to  maintain  her 
properly." 

92 


"Oh,  my  dear  man,  that's  understood," 
protested  Lorimer,  looking  white  about  the 
gills.  "  Of  course  I  don't  let  her  go  to  you 
penniless,  .  .  .  although  Cleave  has  ex- 
plained that,  just  now,  my  affairs  are  rather 
peculiarly  tied  up." 

"Yes.  The  money  question  is  the  last 
my  father  would  consider,  under  ordinary 
circumstances.  But  I  can't  hide  from  you 
what  I  know  would  follow  any  such  an- 
nouncement to  him  as  that  I  have  just  been 
so  unfortunate  as  to  have  to  hear.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  very  nice  for  me  to  go  into  mar- 
riage conscious  of  deceiving  him.  However, 
as  I  said,  I  consider  that  my  first  duty  is  to 
Gladys,  poor  child;  and  on  that  I  stand  or 
fall." 

"  Good,  Jack  1  Splendid  ! "  exclaimed 
Lorimer,  effusively.  "In  my  daughter's 
name,  I  thank  you.  Cleave  says  you  will, 
in  your  own  good  time,  inform  your  wife 
that  her  mother  is  still  living." 

"  I  accept  the  charge,"  said  Adrian,  grave- 
ly. "I  hope  the  knowledge  will  never  come 

93 


antoelcome 


to  Gladys  through  anyone  less  considerate 
of  her  feelings.  Mr.  Lorimer,  one  last  ques- 
tion :  Has  that  unhappy  woman  led  a  correct 
life  since  she  left  her  child  ?  " 

"  She  says  so,"  answered  Lorimer,  shrug- 
ging. "  But  I  mean  to  be  sure." 

At  this  point  a  servant  entered,  and,  halt- 
ing at  Lorimer's  elbow,  announced,  auto- 
matically : 

"  Mr.  Jones." 

"  Ha  !  the  very  man  !  Show  him  up," 
said  the  master  of  the  house,  whose  florid 
skin  had  now  regained  its  normal  ruddiness. 

Adrian,  more  shaken  by  their  talk  than  he 
cared  to  let  Lorimer  see,  walked  over  to  the 
window,  within  earshot,  however,  of  the  dia- 
logue that  ensued  between  Lorimer  and  the 
peculiarly  offensive  and  underbred  personage 
now  added  to  their  number. 

"  Ha,  Jones  !  You  needn't  mind  Mr. 
Adrian.  He  is  up  to  the  whole  affair,  of 
course.  What  have  you  to  report  ?  "  asked 
Lorimer,  harshly. 

"Did  my  best,  sir,"  came  in  the  little 
94 


man's  mincing  tones,  keyed  according  to  his 
notion  of  high  society.  "  Put  some  of  my 
prettiest  work  into  the  job.  But  so  far,  I 
regret  to  say,  with  no  satisfactory  result. 
Was  unable  to  find  out  anything  but  what 
seemed  on  the  straight." 

"  Well,  the  details,"  demanded  Lorimer. 

"  Engaged  her  room  at  the  hotel  for  a 
week  from  the  date  of  arrival;  must  have 
funds  or  couldn't  stand  the  cost.  No  call- 
ers, no  letters  or  telegrams,  no  drinks  or 
cigarettes.  Was  out  all  yesterday,  took  a 
hansom  to  Central  Park,  dismissed  it  at  en- 
trance, returned  afoot,  ordered  no  dinner, 
spent  evening  in  room,  reading.  My  orders 
went  no  further,  sir,  I  think." 

"  No ;  and  they  stop  here,"  said  Lorimer. 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  with  my  good 
intentions,  Mr.  Lorimer.  My  work  for  you 
on  other  jobs  of  this  kind  has  been  more 
successful. " 

"That  will  do.  Send  your  bill  to  the 
office.  My  cashier  will  settle  it.  Good- 
day." 

95 


omtoelcome  j&r&  fate!) 

The  detective  backed  supinely  to  the  door. 

"  And  if  there's  any  other  little  thing  in 
this  line  you  might  want — "  he  began,  but 
Lorimer  had  turned  his  back. 

"  Or  you,  Mr.  Adrian,"  ventured  Jones, 
offering  Jack  his  card. 

Adrian  immediately  turned  and  walked 
away,  and  the  unappreciated  genius  went, 
crab-like,  into  obscurity. 

"  That  woman's  devilish  deep  ! "  flashed 
through  Lorimer's  mind.  "  Where  did  she 
get  the  cash  for  all  this  turnout  ? " 

But  his  lips  forced  a  smile  as  he  faced 
Adrian. 

"  Not  a  pleasant  part  of  it,  I  own." 

"  If  this  is  your  method  of  gaining  infor- 
mation about  her,  I  should  prefer  to  have 
no  news,"  said  Adrian,  hotly;  and  Lorimer's 
red  face  grew  redder  still. 

"Perhaps  not,  Jack.  You  think  me  a 
cad,  a  brute,  evidently.  Very  well.  Per- 
haps I  am.  When  a  man's  had  his  domestic 
life  torn  into  tatters  and  flaunted  before  the 

public  by  a  damned  loose  woman " 

96 


Clje  antoelcome 


"  Let  me  remind  you  that  you  are  speak- 
ing of  Gladys's  mother,"  interrupted  the 
young  man. 

"All  very  well  for  the  man  who's  never 
been  bitten  to  have  no  fear  of  a  mad  dog. 
Cultivate  as  much  as  you  please  the  divine 
virtue  of  forbearance  with  her  class  -  " 

"  Apparently,  this  lady  is  not  'classed," 
said  Adrian. 

"  Come,  Adrian,"  resumed  Lorimer,  as 
the  two  pulled  themselves  up  on  the  brink 
of  a  quarrel.  "  Man  to  man,  you  ought  to 
sympathize  with  me." 

"  Mr.  Lorimer,  you  are  Gladys's  father. 
From  your  hand  I  am  soon  to  receive  her  at 
the  altar.  I  owe  you,  and  have  shown  you, 
every  consideration.  But  the  attitude  you 
hold  toward  the  person  whom  I  wish,  with 
all  my  heart,  I  had  never  heard  of,  makes  my 
gorge  rise,  and  I  can't  help  it.  If  I  wrong 
you,  I  ask  your  pardon,  I  can  do  no  more." 

Jack's  face  glowed  with  his  honest  emo- 
tions.    Lorimer,  surveying  it  with  masked 
curiosity,  ended  by  shaking  him  by  the  hand. 
7  97 


OJtttoelcome 


"  My  dear  boy,  you  make  me  realize  the 
flight  of  years.  When  you  are  my  age  you 
will  be  less  inclined  to  —  but  there,  good-by 
for  the  present.  I  am  off  to  meet  your  good 
father  for  a  final  discussion  of  our  affair.  If 
all  goes  as  we  hope  and  expect,  to-day  will 
be  marked  with  a  white  stone  in  the  united 
families  of  Adrian  and  Lorimer.  Together 
we'll  make  a  deal  that'll  open  the  eyes  of 
Wall  Street.  Come,  man,  put  on  a  livelier 
face  to  meet  your  sweetheart.  Gladys  and 
my  wife  will,  no  doubt,  join  you  here  in  a 
minute.  Don't  let  them  see  that  look  on  a 
happy  bridegroom." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Adrian.  "  I  think, 
for  the  present,  I  shall  also  take  myself 
away,  and  try  to  get  rid  of  my  megrims." 

"  To  resume  duty  later  on,"  said  Lorimer, 
jovially,  but  with  an  undercurrent  of  anxiety. 
"Come  on,  then,  we'll  go  together  to  the 
parting  of  our  ways." 

Adrian  hesitated,  then  hurried  after  his 
host.  His  sense  of  oppression  in  this  room, 
formerly  the  temple  of  his  love  and  hopes, 

98 


Clje  Ontoelcome 


was  overpowering.  A  few  moments  after 
he  had  left  it,  Gladys,  coming  in  on  tiptoe 
to  surprise  him,  as  she  imagined,  with  a  book 
in  his  usual  armchair,  knew  the  sharp  dis- 
appointment of  finding  him  flown. 

"Jack!  why,  Jack!"  she  called.  "He 
was  certainly  here  a  moment  since,  for  the 
servants  told  me  so.  Oh  !  there  are  mamma 
and  Dolly  and  Lina  coming  in  to  make  a 
list  of  the  wedding  presents.  What  a  bore 
that  one  never  has  a  minute  to  one's  self  in 
these  days  !" 

Directly  there  was  a  formidable  entrance 
of  Mrs.  Lorimer,  richly  gowned  in  afternoon 
house  dress,  followed  by  the  prospective 
bridesmaids,  Dolly  Gay  and  Lina  Thurston, 
in  walking  costume,  who  forthwith  darted 
like  humming-birds  about  the  room,  assem- 
bling jewelers'  packages  and  boxes  on  the 
large  center-table,  and  giving  vent  to  de- 
lighted exclamations  as  the  unpacking 
progressed.  Gladys,  who,  despite  her  senti- 
ment, was  only  a  mortal  maiden,  soon 
checked  her  sighs  and  made  merry  with  her 

99 


cUntoelcome 


friends,  Mrs.  Lorimer  seating  herself  behind 
the  blotter  and  inkstand,  to  make  entries  as 
each  present  was  in  turn  disclosed. 

Mrs.  Lorimer  was  in  excellent  humor  — 
almost  at  the  climax  of  earthly  satisfaction. 
Not  only  had  the  business  combination  of 
the  Adrian  and  Lorimer  families  sufficed,  at 
this  most  critical  juncture  in  her  husband's 
affairs,  to  tide  over  difficulty,  but  it  had 
averted  ruin  and  saved  an  exposure  that 
would  have  meant  disgrace  in  the  public  eye. 
Last,  but  not  least,  this  marriage  promised 
her  a  long-desired  social  opportunity. 

She  had  never  been  able  to  conquer  certain 
prejudices  held  against  her  in  the  circle  in 
which  the  first  Mrs.  Lorimer  had  moved  by 
right  of  birth  and  family  connection.  The 
best  people,  or  those  so  considered  by  the 
second  Mrs.  Lorimer,  had  shown  a  persistent 
objection  to  admitting  her  farther  than  the 
outskirts  of  their  little  paradise.  As  Gladys 
grew  into  womanhood  there  had,  indeed, 
been  symptoms  of  a  melting  of  the  ice. 
Old  friends  of  Gladys's  lovely  and  unfor- 
100 


dntDelcome 


tunate  mother  had  remembered  the  child's 
existence,  pitied  her,  decided  that  it  was  her 
due  to  rejoin  their  ranks,  in  spite  of  the 
rather  dubious  papa  and  the  indubitably 
vulgar  stepmother.  Invitations  had  begun 
to  come  for  Miss  Lorimer,  from  some  of 
which  it  was  impossible  to  exclude  her 
parents.  And,  finally,  the  luck  of  this  early 
marriage,  with  all  its  concomitants  of  good 
family  and  wealth,  gave  Mrs.  Lorimer  her 
chance  to  send  out  cards  on  her  own  account 
to  every  one  of  the  people  she  most  aspired 
to  know.  A  list,  pored  over  as  pious  an- 
chorites pore  over  their  breviaries,  had  been 
made  by  her.  The  secretary  most  a  la  mode 
for  addressing  envelopes  had  been  secured, 
to  prevent  her  making  mistakes  in  genera- 
tions, inviting  divorced  couples  together, 
dead  men  and  women  "  out  of  mind,"  or  dis- 
carded members  of  fashionable  cliques.  The 
invitations  finally  sent  out  for  the  ceremony 
and  reception  embodied  the  second  Mrs. 
Lorimer's  highest  ideals  of  the  rewards  of 
the  strenuous  life. 

101 


jftttf, 


Also,  Gladys  once  married  and  off  her 
hands  would  remove  her  from  a  moral  pres- 
sure she  had  recently  had  occasion  to  feel 
peculiarly  galling.  Mrs.  Lorimer  had,  in- 
deed, reached  that  second  Summer  of  the 
materialist  which  finds  restraint  in  self-in- 
dulgence the  more  trying  because  the  Win- 
ter of  discontent  is  in  full  view. 

To  Gladys,  of  course,  fell  the  first  duty  of 
openings  the  boxes  and  parcels,  reading 
cards,  and  handing  the  contents  over  to 
Dolly  and  Lina,  who  in  turn  submitted  them 
to  Mrs.  Lorimer.  The  elder  lady  had  pro- 
vided herself  with  an  elaborately  bound  blank 
book,  in  which  she  registered  the  gift,  its 
number,  a  remark  pertaining  to  it  and  the 
donor's  name.  As  she  thus  obtained  the 
pleasure  of  familiarly  inscribing  the  nomen- 
clature of  several  members  of  the  paradise 
from  which  she  had  been  hitherto  shut  out, 
the  task  was  pleasing,  and  her  smiles 
abounded,  widening  upon  delicately  tinged 
and  powdered  cheeks. 

"  Four  hundred  and  forty-two  !  "  cried 
102 


(Untoelcome 


Dolly  Gay,  holding  up  a  silver  candelabrum 
in  either  hand.  "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard  de 
Lancey.  The  sixth  pair." 

"Four  hundred  and  forty-three!"  ex- 
claimed Lina  Thurston,  exhibiting  a  couple 
of  bonbon  dishes.  "  Miss  Robinson.  Eight 
of  these  altogether,  and  one  odd  one  from  a 
needy  millionaire." 

"  Hush,  my  dear !  "  replied  Mrs.  Lorimer, 
in  a  conclusive  tone,  due  to  Miss  Robinson's 
social  eminence.  "  Write  an  extremely  nice 
note  to  her,  Gladys." 

"  One  carriage  clock.  Mrs.  Van  Arden! " 
exclaimed  Dolly,  taking  it  from  Gladys's  in- 
different hand. 

"Mrs.  Van  Arden!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Lorimer,  flushing  proudly.  "  Let  me  see 
the  card ! " 

"  No  mistake ;  it's  from  the  Grand  Pan- 
jandrum herself,  with  the  little  round  button 
on  the  top  ! "  cried  Saucy  Lina.  "  It  looks 
second  hand,  Gladys,  and  will  do  for  your 
fourth-story  back." 

"  Lina  !  Miss  Thurston  ! "  interposed  Mrs. 
103 


antDelcome 


Lorimer,  rebukingly.  "  Don't  think  of  send- 
ing your  note  of  thanks  to  Mrs.  Van  Arden, 
Gladys,  without  my  looking  over  it.  I  am 
quite  sure  now  that  she  will  come  to  the 
wedding,"  she  added,  in  an  undertone  of  joy 
permeated  with  awe. 

"  I  couldn't  possibly  be  grateful  for  Mr. 
Clayton's  horrid  little  spoons,"  whispered  the 
lawless  Dolly,  holding  the  objects  in  question 
up  for  survey. 

"  My  dears  !  "  said  Mrs.  Lorimer,  in  her 
best  Sunday-school  manner,  visibly  strength- 
ened by  new  social  prospects,  "  we  should  be 
grateful  for  all  intent  at  kindness  from  our 
fellow-men." 

Lina  laughed. 

"After  forty  —  perhaps,"  she  said,  with 
large  indifference. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  leave  you,  young  ladies," 
soon  remarked  Mrs.  Lorimer,  to  whom  the 
companionship  of  Gladys's  bridesmaids  was 
not  proving  an  unqualified  pleasure.  "  I 
have  made  an  appointment  to  receive  a 
visit  before  tea  from  the  secretary  of  our 
104 


Association  for  Suppressing  Vice  in  High 
Society. " 

"  Did  you  expect  to  suppress  it  before 
tea,  dear  Mrs.  Lorimer  ?  "  asked  Lina. 

"  Take  my  place,  Gladys,"  said  the  lady, 
rising  and  looking  around  her  at  the  grow- 
ing array  of  silverware  and  costly  nothings 
encumbering  tables  and  chairs.  "  How  kind 
our  friends  have  been !  " 

"All  the  bread  you  and  Mr.  Lorimer 
have  cast  upon  matrimonial  waters  coming 
back  to  Gladys,"  said  Lina. 

"  Tf  one  could  have  the  trousseau  and 
presents  without  the  man ! "  added  Dolly, 
thoughtfully.  "  But  there  seems  no  such 
combination  possible." 

A  footman  and  page  entering,  burdened 
with  more  parcels,  walked  in  line,  with  mili- 
tary precision,  to  the  writing-table  and  sur- 
rendered them. 

"No  one  has  called  with  a  box  from 
Madame  Collette  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Lorimer  of 
the  footman,  and  was  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive. "  Too  bad  Collette  should  be  behind 
105 


antoelcome 


time  !  I  especially  wanted  you  to  try  the 
dress  on  to-day,  as  to-morrow  will  be  so 
rushed,  and  I  cannot  remand  the  visit  of  our 
secretary,"  went  on  the  lady,  addressing  the 
trio  at  the  table.  "  That  will  do,  Thomas  ; 
if  a  messenger  from  Collette  calls,  send  her 
up  at  once." 

"  The  dress?"  asked  Dolly,  with  prompt 
feminine  ecstasy. 

"  The  dress  ?  "  echoed  Lina,  rapturously. 

"  Oh,  what  luck  we  should  be  here 
when  it  comes  home.  Mine  came  yester- 
day, and  is  perfectly  lovely  !  "  exclaimed  Miss 
Gay.  "  Collette  has  done  herself  proud.  " 

"  Look,  girls  !  "  cried  Gladys,  absorbed  in 
a  bulky  parcel  she  had  just  undone;  "was 
ever  anything  so  sweet  and  dear  ?  —  a  crazy 
cushion  in  silk  patchwork,  from  that  old 
duck  of  an  Agnes  1  She  began  it  when  I 
was  first  engaged,  and  it's  been  such  a  mys- 
tery !  Don't  laugh,  Dolly  and  Lina.  For 
years,  if  I've  stirred  in  the  night,  Agnes  has 
come  to  me.  She  sleeps  with  one  ear  open 
for  me,  I  tell  her.  .  .  .  A  bit  of  every- 
106 


OntDelcome  jttrg, 


body's  best  frocks.  .  .  .  Dear  Agnes  ! 
No  hands  but  her  rough  ones  shall  lace  on 
my  wedding-gown." 

"  Gladys,  that's  you  all  over,"  exclaimed 
Miss  Gay,  as  the  girl  in  a  tender  reverie 
stroked  the  cushion  before  replacing  it  in  its 
box.  "  Here's  a  nice  little  promising  parcel 
I'm  dying  to  have  you  open.  No  card  with 
it,  either.  Fancy  not  getting  the  credit  of 
one's  outlay  !  " 

Smiling,  and  still  under  the  spell  of  her 
old  nurse's  surprise,  Gladys  undid  the  tiny 
parcel  placed  in  her  hands  by  Dolly,  all  of 
the  party  exclaiming  in  satisfaction  over  the 
result.  On  a  velvet  bed  lay  a  leaf  of  sham- 
rock fashioned  of  costly  emeralds,  and  hang- 
ing to  a  chain  set  with  diamond  and  emerald 
points.  It  was  a  jewel  that  might  have  been 
worn  by  a  king's  daughter.  A  little  chorus 
of  admiration  and  wonder  attended  its  pas- 
sage from  hand  to  hand.  Even  Mrs.  Lori- 
mer  was  arrested  in  her  flight,  to  join  in  the 
speculation  as  to  whence  the  dainty  thing 
had  come. 

107 


"  This  is,  to  my  taste,  the  most  delicious 
ornament  you've  had ! "  cried  Lina,  envi- 
ously. "  No  doubt  some  of  Jack's  family 
have  sent  it;  but  who — who  could  consent 
to  do  such  an  adorable  action  unknown  to 
fame?" 

While  the  pendant  rested  in  its  new  own- 
er's rosy  palm,  and  Gladys's  brow  knitted 
with  wonderment  as  to  the  giver,  the  foot- 
man, returning,  announced  to  his  mistress 
the  presence  of  Miss  Pincher  in  the  recep- 
tion-room down-stairs. 

"  Our  honored  secretary.  Say  I  will  come 
directly,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lorimer.  "  But 
first  I  must  put  some  of  these  things  away 
in  a  place  of  safety."  Gladys  assisted  her 
while  she  carried  a  number  of  the  more  con- 
spicuous articles  across  the  room,  placing 
them  on  the  shelves  of  a  closet.  But  the 
girl  did  not  thus  resign  her  latest  gift,  the 
chain  of  which  she  had  thrown  around  her 
neck.  For  some  unfathomable  reason  this 
token  had  at  once  assumed  to  her  a  value 
and  importance  unknown  in  her  other  pres- 
108 


dtrtoelcome 


ents.  Her  one  desire  was  to  be  free  to  fly 
to  the  telephone  and  confide  the  fact  of  its 
arrival  to  Jack.  Making  a  device  of  show- 
ing other  bridal  finery  in  her  bedroom  to 
her  friends,  she  rid  herself  of  these  laughing 
maidens  and  flew  out  on  the  landing  of  the 
stairs,  passing  through  a  doorway  curtained 
with  greenish-gray  velours  that  made  a  per- 
fect setting  for  her  white-robed  figure  and 
roseate  bloom. 

As  she  stood  waiting  eagerly  at  the  in- 
strument she  seemed  a  very  image  of  youth- 
ful hope  and  love.  Her  ripe  lips  bent  them- 
selves to  the  mouthpiece  tenderly,  her  voice 
thrilled  with  happiness  when  answering  her 
lover's  challenge. 

"  Oh,  you  are  there!"  she  said,  with  a 
little,  satisfied  sigh.  "  I  was  so  afraid  I'd 
miss  you  again.  Jack,  who  could  have  sent 
me  the  loveliest  pendant  and  chain  all  set 
with  emeralds  ?  Some  of  your  people,  I 
think.  No?  Well,  do  hurry  up  and  see  it. 
I  was  so  disappointed  when  I  found  you 
were  gone.  Good-  by." 
109 


"  Gladys  1  "  called  Mrs.  Lorimer,  rather 
crossly. 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  she  said,  returning  to  the 
morning-room. 

"Now  this  is  finished,  I  hope  we  may 
have  a  little  rest.  Pray  do  not  encourage 
those  girls  to  remain  longer.  Their  eternal 
giggling  and  answering  back  gets  on  my 
nerves. " 

"  Poor  mamma !  We  are  upsetting  you 
and  your  house ! "  cried  Gladys.  "  Never 
mind ;  in  a  little  while  you'll  be  rid  of  me, 
and  Jack  will  have  all  the  bother." 

"  Nobody  can  say  I've  not  done  my  best 
by  that  child,  "thought  Mrs.  Lorimer,  as  the 
bedroom  door  closed  on  the  disturber  of  her 
peace.  "  But  the  marriage  is  a  big  relief. 
When  it's  over,  and  Dick  and  I  go  abroad, 
we'll  see  if  I  don't  treat  myself  to  a  little 
let-up  from  the  devoted  stepmother  busi- 
ness." 


110 


IS  Mrs.  Lorimer  walked  across  the 
Persian  rug,  on  which  her  silken 
skirts  rustled  aggressively,  pomp 
and  the  pride  of  life  written  in 
every  line  of  her  face  and  figure,  the  door 
on  the  stairs  opened  and  the  footman 
ushered  in  a  woman  carrying  by  a  strap 
handle  a  modiste's  box  covered  with  black 
oilskin. 

The  newcomer  was  tall,  especially  grace- 
ful, clad  in  close-fitting  dark  tweeds,  her 
bronze  hair  covered  by  the  little  veil  of  black 
gauze  drawn  across  her  face.  She  paused  on 
entering,  and  Mrs.  Lorimer,  though  near- 
sighted and  thick-skinned  as  well  as  pano- 
plied in  her  own  importance,  could  not  fail 
to  observe  the  slight  defiance  of  her  pose  as 
she  halted  near  the  door.  The  lady  of  the 
house  did  not,  however,  consider  that  the 
111 


antoelcottte 


personality  of  a  mere  dressmaker's  young 
person  warranted  the  exertion  of  lifting  her 
gold-  handled  lorgnon  for  a  closer  investiga- 
tion. As  a  rule,  she  treated  all  her  em- 
ployees as  inevitable  offenders,  and  addressed 
them  accordingly. 

"  I  must  say  Madame  Collette  has  taken 
her  time  about  the  dress,"  she  said,  icily. 
"  Thomas,  send  Coralie  to  me.  " 

Coralie,  the  lady's  maid,  as  anxious  as  the 
rest  of  the  feminine  establishment  concern- 
ing this  arrival,  was  on  the  footman's  heels. 
She  came  in  with  the  air  of  an  admiral  as- 
suming command  of  a  quarter-deck,  swooped 
on  the  newcomer's  burden  and  patronizingly 
desired  her  to  wait  for  the  box. 

"She  will  stay,  of  course,  to  make  any 
trifling  alteration  needed.  You  will  be  com- 
petent for  that,  I  suppose,  although  I  shall 
certainly  inform  Madame  Colette  that  I  do 
not  permit  her  to  send  me  persons  of  bad 
manners  and  evidently  sullen  temper." 

As  Coralie,  with  a  superior  smirk,  glided 
off  with  the  box,  the  stranger  did  not  in  the 
112 


€!je  antoelcome 


least-  degree  alter  her  pose,  nor  did  she  speak 
a  word. 

"  Go  over  there  and  sit  in  the  alcove  by 
the  window,"  said  Mrs.  Lorimer,  sharply. 
"  If  they  want  you,  they  will  call  you  to 
Miss  Lorimer.  Otherwise,  you  will  take 
your  box  and  go." 

The  woman  softly  crossed  the  room  and 
withdrew  into  the  retreat  indicated,  Mrs. 
Lorimer  following  her  progress  by  a  high- 
pitched  order  to  the  servant,  given  with  in- 
sulting emphasis  : 

"Thomas,  until  Agnes  comes  do  you 
stay  here  ;  and,  remember,  you  are  responsi- 
ble for  the  valuables  around." 

Directly  afterward  Agnes  hurried  into  the 
room,  and  Thomas,  tongue  in  cheek,  betook 
himself  down-stairs  to  narrate  the  incident. 
Agnes,  looking  about  her  nervously,  ran 
over  to  the  dressmaker's  assistant  and  folded 
her  in  her  arms. 

"  My  lamb  !     To  come  back  to  your  own 
old  home  again  like  this  !     It  is  more  than 
ye  can  bear.     Stop  trembling  child;  do." 
8  113 


"  It  is  rage  that's  making  me  tremble," 
cried  Marian,  stormily.  "That  insolent 
creature  treating  me  like  a  thief!  Oh,  I 
could  kill  her,  Agnes  !  " 

"  My  dear,  my  dear,  I  told  ye  how  it 
would  be,"  pleaded  the  old  woman,  terri- 
fied. 

"  No,  I  can  control  myself,  and  will. 
Only,  when  shall  I  see  my  child  ?  " 

"  You  must  chance  it,  honey.  Very 
likely  she'll  send  for  ye  in  there.  Keep  cool 
and  brave." 

"  I'm  brave  as  Julius  Caesar,"  said  Marian ; 
"  and  I'll  die  sooner  than  betray  myself." 

" You're  crying  now.  Oh,  dear,  dear! 
And  ye  were  cool  as  a  cucumber  in  the  cab." 

With  a  mighty  effort  Marian  conquered 
her  emotion,  answering  in  a  gay  tone : 

"  I  always  loved  adventure,  and  you  know 
I'm  a  splendid  actress.  Don't  bother  that 
poor  old  head  of  yours  and,  trust  me,  all 
will  go  well." 

To  quiet  herself  she  walked  to  and  fro  in 
the  room,  noting  the  changes  in  decorations, 
114 


CIjc  Ontwelcome 


pictures,  and  furniture.  To  this  house,  then 
so  far  up-town  as  to  be  regarded  as  a 
pioneer's  experiment,  she  had  removed  when 
her  husband's  first  rapid  rise  of  fortune  justi- 
fied the  outlay.  Into  its  building  had  gone 
her  cherished  ideas  of  nicety  and  conformity 
to  their  station  in  life.  The  very  books  on 
the  shelves  had  been  bought  and  often  han- 
dled by  her.  A  thousand  recollections  as- 
sailed her  of  the  disillusionment  that  had 
here  resulted  from  talks  and  quarrels  with 
her  husband.  It  was  here,  too,  that  she 
had  come  to  the  desperate  resolution  that 
wrecked  her  life.  Almost  any  other  room 
in  the  house  would  have  meant  less  to  her, 
except  Gladys's  old  nursery.  That  thresh- 
old she  would  never  have  dared  to  cross 
with  feet  that  had  strayed  so  far  from  it  into 
a  way  so  thorny  !  .  .  . 

With  eyes  blinded  by  tears  she  espied  on 
a  side-table  littered  with  photographs,  minia- 
tures, and  dainty  bits  of  silver,  a  picture 
framed  in  glittering  rhinestones,  and  stooped 
to  it,  uttering  a  cry  of  joy. 
115 


€l)e  dntoelcome 


"  This  is  she,  Agnes  1  It  speaks  1  It 
breathes  1  " 

"  Her  last.  Taken  for  the  bridegroom," 
nodded  Agnes,  assentingly;  then,  at  the 
sound  of  a  peal  of  laughter  from  the  bed- 
room, turned  her  gaze  nervously  in  that 
direction. 

Marian,  with  a  quick  movement,  slipped 
the  photograph  out  of  the  frame  and  into 
the  bosom  of  her  blouse,  and,  with  Agnes, 
lent  ear  to  the  voices  beyond  the  closed  door. 

"That's  not  her  laugh,  Agnes,"  she  ex- 
claimed ;  "  there's  a  hard  note  in  it." 

"  That's  Miss  Thurston,  one  of  the  brides- 
maids, but  a  good  girl  eno',"  said  the  old 
woman.  "  That  other's  little  Miss  Gay, 
who's  always  a-bubbling  like  a  spring  in  the 
woods  in  the  old  country." 

"  Why  doesn't  she  laugh,  Agnes  ?  "  asked 
Marian,  listening  eagerly.  "  Is  she  sad,  or 
sorry  for  anything?  It  can't  be  she  isn't 
happy  in  her  choice." 

"  Bless  ye,  she's  just  dead  in  love  with 
Mr.  Adrian,"  said  Agnes,  chuckling  ;  "  and 
116 


autoelcome  jttrg. 


small  blame  to  my  girl,  ayther,  as  the  sayin' 
is.  Every  servant  in  this  house  wants  to  go 
and  live  with  'em." 

The  door  opened.  Marian  started  electric- 
ally. But  it  was  only  the  lady's  maid, 
carrying  a  sash  or  scarf  of  white  transparent 
stuff  fringed  with  orange  blossoms,  which 
she  handed  to  Marian. 

"  Miss  Lorimer  thinks  these  orange  blos- 
soms should  be  tacked  in  place,"  she  said, 
giggling  in  a  genteel  manner.  "  They're 
that  loose  they'll  be  falling  off  before  the 
bride  gets  up  the  church  aisle." 

"  I  will  do  it,"  said  Marian,  taking  the 
sash  eagerly.  "  I  have  my  sewing  things  in 
my  pocket." 

Agnes  breathed  more  freely  when  the 
maid  departed.  Mrs.  Hatch  returned  to 
the  retired  corner  of  the  great  bay  window, 
and,  sitting  behind  a  clump  of  palms  and 
rubber  trees,  fell  to  work,  while  Agnes  set 
about  picking  up  bits  of  wrapping  paper 
and  boxes,  and  tidying  the  room.  A  noise 
outside  made  Marian  start  again. 
117 


"  Agnes,  is  Gladys  coming  out?  "  she  said. 

"  Tut !  tut ! "  answered  the  nurse ;  "  if  it 
isn't  madam  coming  back  again !  I  did 
hope  that  secretary  female  would  keep  her 
below — settling  the  hash  of  every  sinner 
God  let  be  born  into  the  world,  except  their 
two  selves.  Child,  ye  can't  stay  here ! 
You're  shaking  like  a  leaf.  Go,  quick.  I'll 
make  some  excuse  for  ye. " 

"  It's  too  late,  and  I  wouldn't  if  I  could," 
said  Marian,  doggedly,  drawing  back  farther 
into  her  hiding-place. 

"Our  budget  was  smaller  than  usual 
to-day,"  observed  Mrs.  Lorimer,  whom  a 
course  of  Miss  Pincher's  flattering  homage 
had  put  again  on  her  righteous  pedestal. 
"  Well,  Agnes,  is  all  right  ?  Is  that  saucy 
person  gone?  Have  you  seen  the  wedding 
gown  ? " 

She  advanced  to  enter  the  bedroom  door, 
but  was  met  by  the  maid,  who  informed  her 
that  Miss  Lorimer  begged  madam  to  wait 
where  she  was  for  a  few  moments,  and 
would  she  send  Agnes,  please  ? 
118 


flJtrtoelcome 


"  Very  well.  Go,  Agnes  ;  I  have  a  letter 
here  I  will  read  meanwhile,"  said  the  lady, 
subsiding  into  an  armchair  Mr.  Lorimer 
had  once  sent  home  for  Marian's  use  in 
holding  her  baby. 

Agnes,  with  a  miserable  side  glance  at 
Marian's  covert,  followed  Coralie.  But  the 
old  woman  need  not  have  feared  any  in- 
crease of  temptation  to  self-betrayal  on  the 
culprit's  part  through  the  fact  of  Mrs.  Lori- 
mer's  presence  in  the  room.  It  but  served 
to  stiffen  Marian's  resolution  to  carry  on  her 
effort  to  the  end.  She  felt  that  she  would 
rather  die  than  let  this  woman  have  a  chance 
to  order  her  in  contumely  from  the  house. 
But  she  had  not  counted  on  the  ordeal  next 
befalling  her  :  nothing  less  than  the  entrance 
into  the  morning-room  of  Lorimer  himself, 
whom  Agnes  and  she  had  ascertained  to 
have  left  the  house  before  they  ventured  to 
drive  up  to  it. 

Marian's  blood  ran  chiller  in  her  veins 
than  ever  she  had  known  it  in  the  sad  years 
of  tribulation,  but  she  dared  not  follow  her 
119 


tfJntuelcome 


proud  impulse  to  spring  to  her  feet,  avow 
herself  and  take  the  consequences.  She 
cowered  farther  back  into  her  corner,  feel- 
ing, rather  than  seeing,  Lorimer  go  up 
behind  his  wife  and  draw  her  face  backward 
for  a  kiss. 

"  It's  all  right,  Madge,  old  girl,"  he  said, 
in  deeply  exultant  tones.  "  By  George, 
we've  turned  the  corner." 

"  You've  won,  Dick  ?  We're  safe  ? 
How  ?  "  she  asked,  nervously. 

"Hush.  Not  here!  I'll  tell  you  later. 
It's  the  biggest  thing  of  my  life,  and  only 
you  know  how  near  we've  come  to  everlast- 
ing smash.  Those  old,  prating  Puritanical 
fools,  the  Adrians,  are  fairly  in  the  net,  and 
111  make  'em  pay  high  for  the  privilege. 
Come,  Madge,  toss  those  Social  Purity  let- 
ters of  yours  into  the  waste-basket.  Just  as 
soon  as  we're  foot-free  from  the  girl  we'll  go 
abroad  and  have  a  jolly  time  on  our  own 
account.  We'll  have  money  to  burn,  Mag; 
money  to  burn.  And  that's  better  than 
dancing  to  the  tune  of  the  society  fiddle 
120 


antoelcome  ;fttr& 


here,  where,  spite  of  all,  the  women  still 
give  you  the  go-by." 

"  You  promise  ?  "  she  asked,  sharply. 
"No  backing  out,  mind,  on  the  score  of 
business.  You'll  take  me  abroad,  spend 
money  freely,  and  let  me  get  a  rest  from 
these  old  reforms  and  charities  ?  " 

"  I  need  change  myself,  Mag.  I'm  over- 
worked, overworried,  and  besides,  I've  been 
seeing  ghosts.  Yes,  I'll  treat  ;  to  a  high 
figure,  too.  Hang  me,  Mag,  if  I  know  any 
younger  woman  that's  a  patch  on  you  for 
charm  !  I'm  dead  stuck  on  you,  madam, 
and  I'm  not  ashamed  of  it  !  " 

He  kissed  her  again,  and  Marian  heard  a 
cooing  voice  in  answer: 

"  If  I  had  only  been  the  first  1  " 

"  Why,  Mag,  I  care  more  for  your  little 
finger  than  I  did  for  her  whole  spoilt,  hys- 
terical body." 

"  Yet  she  was  called  pretty,"  said  the  coo- 
ing voice  again. 

"  Humph  !  When  I  married  her  she  was 
pretty,  and  devilish  lively  and  bright  —  all 
121 


fine  words ;  but  she  broke  my  love  up  when 
she  got  to  thinking  too  much  of  me — exact- 
ing too  much.  You,  Mag,  have  a  different 
hand  on  the  reins.  But  here  lately,  I'll  own 
up,  I've  sometimes  thought  it  might  have 
been  different  with  her,  you  know,  if  I'd 
been  a  little  easier.  I  do  believe  she  loved 
me  once." 

"Loved  you!  that  creature?  Don't  de- 
ceive yourself."  The  voice  was  sharp  and 
hard  now,  with  an  undertone  of  eager 
malice.  Marian,  whose  head  had  been 
bowed  like  a  rain-drenched  flower,  straight- 
ened herself  suddenly. 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  answered  the 
man.  "  A  fellow  gets  to  be  a  softy  some- 
times, when  he  thinks  of  long  ago. " 

"  She  never  loved  you.  She  disgraced 
you  publicly.  Remember  the  sting  of 
that." 

"  Damn  her !  I  don't  forget,"  said  Lori- 
mer,  firing  up. 

"  There's  my  own  Dick  again  !  I  declare, 
you  frighten  me,  harking  back  to  that  de- 


atvtoeicome 


graded  woman.  What  could  have  pos- 
sessed you  !  For  my  part,  I  don't  see  how 
she  could  have  had  the  heart  to  give  you 
up.  Nobody's  so  handsome  as  you,  Dick 
—  so  clever,  so  successful." 

"Mag,  you  bewitch  me  when  you  look 
like  that.  After  all,  a  grown  daughter's  a 
weight  we'll  feel  lighter  to  be  rid  of.  We'll 
begin  li£e  over  again,  from  this  on.  There's 
plenty  of  fun  ahead,  and  we'll  go  the  pace." 

Marian,  in  an  agony,  had  started  to  her 
feet.  The  air  around  her  seemed  stifling, 
the  scent  of  the  flowers  in  the  window 
boxes  made  her  gasp,  the  blood  beat  in  her 
temples.  It  was  not  this  she  had  bargained 
for  in  steeling  herself  to  meet  the  ordeal 
of  returning,  like  a  thief,  into  her  former 
home. 

The  moan  that  escaped  her  was,  fortu- 
nately, unheard  by  the  other  occupants  of 
the  room,  for  at  that  instant  came  from 
Gladys's  bedroom  the  chant  of  the  Wedding 
March  from  "  Lohengrin,"  sung  by  fresh 
young  voices.  Through  the  leaf  screen  Ma- 
183 


antoelcome 


rian  saw  old  Agnes  come  out  first,  holding 
back  the  portieres  for  the  passage  of  Dolly 
and  Lina,  walking  and  singing,  hand  in 
hand.  After  them  followed  Gladys,  her 
slight  young  figure  arrayed  in  a  robe  of 
white  satin,  the  tip  of  the  long  straight  train 
of  which  was  jealously  caught  up  from  con- 
tact with  the  floor  by  Coralie,  the  maid. 
Then  the  girls  halted,  Gladys  passing  be- 
tween them,  and,  with  a  sudden  impulse, 
kneeling  at  her  father's  feet. 

By  this  impetuous  movement  of  lonely 
girlhood  the  little  comedy  of  rehearsal  was 
suddenly  changed  in  character. 

Gladys  bent  her  veiled  head  upon  her 
father's  knee  and  burst  into  sudden  tears. 
While  the  unseen  mother  stretched  out  her 
arms  with  a  mighty  longing  to  her  child, 
Mr.  Lorimer  looked  annoyed,  embarrassed, 
drew  back  and  finally  rose  to  his  feet,  speak- 
ing in  harsh,  sarcastic  tones. 

"  Very  pretty,  my  dear,  but  a  trifle  theat- 
rical.     Keep  that  sort  of  thing  for  Jack, 
when  you  want  to  score  a  point.  " 
124 


antDelcome 


In  his  heart  he  was  repeating,  "  Her 
mother,  to  a  dot."  The  resemblance,  less 
of  person  than  of  manner  and  expres- 
sion, stabbed  him  like  an  avenging  knife. 
His  impulse,  manlike,  was  to  put  the 
door  between  him  and  the  girl  as  soon 
as  possible  ;  and  brusquely  inviting  his 
wife  to  go  with  him  into  the  billiard- 
room  and  be  rid  of  these  frills  and  follals, 
he  hurried  out,  Mrs.  Lorimer  elaborately 
following. 

All  the  mirth  had  gone  out  of  the  little 
group.  Gladys,  pale  and  pained,  dropped 
into  a  chair,  Agnes  hovering  protectively 
around  her;  Coralie  disappeared;  the  two 
visitors,  making  voluble  excuse  that  they 
had  already  overstayed  their  time,  kissed 
Gladys  sympathetically,  and  with  looks  that 
spoke  volumes  took  their  leave. 

Gladys  turned  to  Agnes  with  a  swift 
glance  of  despair. 

"  You  see  !  you  see  !  "  she  cried,  pitifully. 
"  He  hated  to  look  at  me.  What  did  I 
remind  him  of,  Agnes?  Was  it  my  own 
125 


mother?  Oh!  if  she  were  only  here  there'd 
be  one  in  the  world  besides  you  to  care  to 
see  me  in  my  wedding  gown  ! " 

"May  I  try  the  sash  now,  Miss  Lori- 
mer? "  said  an  exceedingly  soft  voice  beside 
her.  Gladys  started  and  sat  up,  shocked 
at  her  exposure  of  secret  grief  to  alien  ears. 
Her  impulse  was  to  speak  haughtily  and 
dismiss  the  intruder,  but  one  glance  into  the 
large,  soft,  yearning  eyes  bent  upon  her, 
made  her,  on  the  contrary,  rise  obediently 
and  stand  before  a  mirror  in  the  panel  of  the 
wall,  where  a  good  effect  of  their  work 
might  be  obtained.  She  did  not  observe 
that  Agnes,  drawing  off  abruptly,  had  gone 
over  to  the  far  end  of  the  room,  leaving 
them  quite  alone. 

"You  saw  me  come  in?  You  are  quite 
satisfied  with  the  gown?"  asked  the  girl, 
making  a  strong  effort  to  conquer  her  recent 
agitation. 

"  Oh,  more  than  satisfied.  It  is  quite 
perfect.  I  can  find  fault  with  not  the  small- 
est thing,"  answered  the  dressmaker,  and 
126 


OJtrtoeicome 


again  the  tender  cadence  of  her  tones  fell 
soothingly  on  Gladys's  ear. 

"  We  were  not  quite  sure  about  the  lace 
ending  on  the  folds  of  the  train  behind," 
went  on  the  bride-elect,  taking  a  little  addi- 
tional comfort  from  the  loveliness  of  her 
own  reflection  at  full  length. 

"  I  will  adjust  it,"  said  the  other,  sinking 
to  her  knees,  and,  unseen  by  Gladys,  almost 
burying  her  face  in  the  shining,  pearly  folds 
of  the  train  and  the  film  of  lace  that  covered 
it  —  welcome  hiding  place  for  that  eloquent 
countenance  of  hers.  The  first  touch  of  her 
child's  warm  young  body  had  intoxicated 
her  with  long-restrained  mother-love.  Into 
her  heart,  seared  with  sorrow  and  scorn  from 
her  fellow-beings,  flowed  a  sudden  divine 
current.  It  banished  the  old  fury  from 
her  veins,  recreated  all  that  woman  owns 
most  nearly  akin  to  the  angels. 

"That's  better,  I  think,"  said  Gladys, 
surveying  herself  again.  "  Now,  if  you  will 
lift  the  veil  and  let  me  slip  the  sash  around 
my  waist  -  " 

127 


OJtrtoelcome 


"  No  !  no  1  "  exclaimed  Marian,  jealously. 
"  You  must  not  stir,  please.  I  can  do  it  all 
much  better." 

She  had  been  anticipating  the  moment 
when  her  hands  might  clasp  that  pretty, 
slim  waist.  Eagerly  her  arms  stole  about 
her  child,  but  when  it  became  needful  to 
withdraw  them,  without  the  embrace  she 
coveted,  the  effort  was  too  great.  Her 
heart  bounded  wildly,  her  brain  grew  dizzy  ; 
she  tottered,  and  Agnes  caught  her  as  she 
swayed  backward. 

"Why,"  cried  Gladys,  innocently,  "the 
poor  thing's  ill,  Agnes  ;  she's  faint.  Put  her 
in  that  chair  while  I  fetch  water,  or  —  I  saw 
brandy  over  on  that  table  in  the  corner  —  I'll 
get  that." 

As  the  bride  hastened  in  search  of  stimu- 
lants Agnes  breathed  in  Marian's  ear  an 
imploring  request  to  keep  up,  for  God's  sake, 
until  she  could  get  her  safely  from  the 
house. 

"  I  will,  I  promise  you.  It's  passing 
now,"  said  Mrs.  Hatch,  to  whom  Gladys  at 
128 


CEJntoeicome 


once  returned,  carrying  a  glass  of  brandy, 
which  she  put  to  her  mother's  lips. 

"  How  good  you  are  —  how  dear  1  "  whis- 
pered Marian,  in  reviving  tones.  "  If  you 
knew  how  ashamed  I  feel  -  " 

"  Don't  think  of  it  !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  I'm 
afraid  you  aren't  strong  ;  you  look  so  white 
and  tired.  Collette  shouldn't  have  sent  you 
out  to-day." 

"  I  am  getting  better  and  stronger  every 
moment,  "  protested  Marian.  "  I  should  be 
so  mortified  not  to  finish.  There's  a  stitch 
or  two  still  wanting  to  the  skirt.  " 

"  If  you  really  care  so  much,"  said  Gladys, 
assentingly;  and  again  the  mother  knelt 
behind  the  child,  trying  to  thread  a  needle, 
and  failing  for  her  tears,  till  Agnes,  in  sym- 
pathetic dumb  show,  offered  to  accomplish 
it  for  her,  and  fumbled  from  the  same  cause. 

"  Why,  you  blind  old  bat  !  "  cried  Gladys, 
playfully,  snatching  the  needle  and  thread 
from  her  nurse's  hand.  "  It's  a  shame  to 
keep  her  waiting  on  her  knees.  I  believe  — 
now  don't  contradict  me,  Agnes  —  you're 
»  129 


dntoelcome 


crying  to  see  your  baby  in  her  wedding 
finery  !  " 

Laughingly,  she  passed  the  threaded  nee- 
dle to  Marian,  who  resumed  her  task,  while 
Gladys  went  on  chatting  with  her  nurse, 
gladdening  the  old  woman's  heart  by  praises 
of  her  wedding  gifts,  then  turning  to  eulogy 
of  the  anonymous  present  recently  received. 

"  Such  a  lovely  pendant,  Agnes  ;  just 
what  suits  me  ;  just  what  I  want  !  Nothing 
but  Jack's  pearls  has  given  me  such  pleas- 
ure. A  bit  of  your  own  Irish  shamrock, 
Agnes;  and  I've  got  it  on  at  this  minute, 
under  my  gown.  Somehow  —  you'll  think 
me  silly  —  but  it  seems  to  warm  my  heart. 
.  .  .  It's  the  kind  of  thing  a  mother 
would  have  chosen  for  her  girl  —  and  I  need 
a  mother,  Agnes.  Why!—  she  inter- 
rupted herself,  arrested  by  a  sudden  move- 
ment of  the  dressmaker  —  "  look,  Agnes  ! 
The  poor  thing's  ill  again.  I  knew  she  was 
not  fit  1  " 

"  All  is  finished  now,  at  any  rate,"  stam- 
mered Marian,  pulling  herself  to  her  feet, 
130 


OJntoelcome 


though  deadly  pale  and  tremulous.  "  Please, 
Miss  Lorimer,  do  not  think  of  me  again.  I 
cannot  bear  to  cloud  your  happiness." 

"  Rest  a  while,  do,"  said  the  girl.  "  Over 
there,  by  the  open  window,  is  a  little  chair. 
Make  her  go,  Agnes,  and  stay  by  her  till 
she  is  better.  I'll  run  away,  now,  and  make 
Coralie  take  this  off." 

With  the  music  of  her  child's  voice  ringing 
like  joy  bells  in  her  brain,  Marian,  too  weak, 
indeed,  to  resist,  found  her  way  back  to  the 
spot  she  had  occupied  before,  Agnes  attend- 
ing her.  But  ere  the  little  bride  could  carry 
her  silken  glories  into  seclusion,  Adrian,  who 
had  accused  himself  of  being  a  cold-blooded 
wretch  unworthy  of  her  trustful  love  in  leav- 
ing the  house  without  seeing  her,  returned. 
Coming  in  with  the  air  of  one  accustomed 
to  invade  the  place,  he  was  caught  on  the 
threshold  and  transfixed  by  the  lovely  ap- 
parition of  his  promised  wife. 

"  Oh,  Jack  !  "  cried  Gladys.  "  Don't  look, 
for  the  world  !  It's  bad  luck  for  you  to 
look." 

131 


flJntoelcome 


"  I  won't,"  he  answered,  shielding  his  eyes 
with  his  hat,  but  peeping  over  it,  well 
pleased,  at  her  image  in  the  mirror. 

"  In  two  minutes  I'll  be  back,"  she  said, 
hurrying  away  from  him.  "  Please  read,  or 
something,  and  presently  I'll  give  you  your 
tea." 

He  laughingly  complied,  or  appeared  to 
do  so,  by  dropping  into  a  chair  and  taking 
up  a  book. 

"  Agnes,"  said  Marian,  in  a  whisper,  "go 
after  her.  Leave  me  alone  with  Mr.  Adrian. 
I  must  speak  to  him;  I  must,  I  tell  you. 
Go!" 

The  nurse,  attempting  protest,  was  over- 
ridden by  imperious  insistence,  and  Marian, 
her  face  and  neck  dyed  crimson,  advanced 
to  Adrian,  pausing  beside  his  chair  and  ad- 
dressing him  by  name. 

He  looked  up  from  his  book.  She  had 
not  in  the  least  overcalculated  the  effect  on 
him  of  her  presence  in  this  place.  He  sat 
staring  at  her  in  bewildered,  horrified  silence, 
then,  remembering  social  courtesy,  rose. 
132 


A  long,  ghastly  gaze  was  bestowed  by  each 
upon  the  other.  In  him,  the  whole  misera- 
ble truth  was  unrolling  itself,  taking  shape 
in  his  mind,  localizing  itself  beyond  a  perad- 
venture.  In  her,  the  shame  of  thus  avow- 
ing herself  a  secret  marauder  in  the  home 
from  which  she  had  been  cast  out  struggled 
with  her  grief  at  inflicting  such  shame  on 
him. 

And  with  this  man,  before  whom  she  now 
cowered  with  bent  head,  she  had  but  a  few 
short  days  ago  felt  herself  on  equal  terms  as 
friend,  adviser,  comrade. 

He  spoke  first. 

"Why  are  you  here?  How  dared  you 
come  here?  he  asked,  in  a  tone  she  had 
never  heard  from  him  before. 

"  Have  you  not  heard  the  story  of  Gladys's 
mother  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Last  night,  for  the  first  time,  from  Mr. 
Cleave.  God  knows  I  did  not  dream  of 
your  identity  with  her  till  now. " 

"  Then  you  know  one  dares  anything  to 
avoid  falling  back  into  a  pit.  Mr.  Adrian, 
133 


dtrtDclcome  j 


she  could  not  recognize  me.  No  one  here 
suspects  me.  It  was  my  last  chance." 

"  It  is  a  fearful  risk  for  you  and  all  of  us," 
he  said,  gloomily. 

"  Gladys  does  not  dream  that  her  mother 
lives.  For  the  others,  I  care  nothing.  I 
was  starving  for  my  child.  Would  you  have 
let  me  go  away  unsatisfied  ?  Ah,  Mr.  Adrian, 
I  know  you  better.  You  wouldn't  treat  a 
tramp  like  that.  You've  the  kindest  heart 
in  the  world.  Now  that  I  know  you're  to 
have  her,  I  am  so  much  happier." 

He  did  not  answer,  but  his  face  soft- 
ened. 

"  Don't  forget  what  you  said  —  *  If  you 
need  me,  I'll  be  there,'  "  she  went  on,  en- 
couraged. "  I  do  need  you,  now,  Mr.  Adrian 
—  awfully.  Be  forbearing,  forgiving  with 
me  for  this  last  offense.  Let  me  plead  with 
you  to  deal  tenderly  with  my  child.  Take 
her  away  from  these  cold,  cruel  people  ;  take 
her  into  a  home,  a  real  home,  where  the 
world  and  the  devil  are  kept  like  wolves  at 
bay.  Whatever  comes  to  try  your  love, 
134 


(Unwelcome 


cling  close  to  each  other.  Confide  in  her, 
cherish  her,  trust  her,  and  she  will  never  dis- 
appoint you.  Oh,  I  can  see  your  two  lives 
blending  into  one  and  stretching  out  down 
the  long  years  in  happiness  and  peace.  Do 
you  think,  then,  it  is  likely  I'd  want  to 
trouble  you  ?  Believe  me,  I  am  not  selfish. 
After  this,  I  am  going  back  to  the  realm  of 
homeless  spirits,  and  neither  you  nor  she 
shall  hear  of  me  —  never,  never,  never  !  There, 
Mr.  Adrian,  I've  touched  you.  One  word 
more  —  when  the  time  comes  for  you  to  tell 
her  about  her  mother,  be  as  merciful  as  you 
can." 

She  paused,  choking.  Jack  looked  at  her 
with  strong  compassion. 

"  I  hate  to  let  you  go  like  this.  You  have 
my  club  address.  Write  me  sometimes  how 
you  fare,  and  if  you  are  ever  in  any  distress 
that  I  can  help,  command  me  ;  but,  my  dear 
lady,  you  must  know  that  every  moment 
you  linger  here  is  dangerous.  For  Gladys's 
sake,  Mrs.  Hatch,  do  not  delay." 

Dusk  was  falling  in  the  room  as  Gladys 
135 


hurried  back,  gowned  in  her  simple  home 
attire.  Marian,  at  the  same  moment,  crossed 
the  room  and  stood  in  a  waiting  attitude  be- 
side the  door. 

"  Oh,  you  are  waiting  for  your  box  ? "  said 
the  young  lady,  pleasantly.  "  I  believe 
Agnes  is  fetching  it.  Yes,  here  she  is ;  and 
you  must  tell  Madame  Collette  we  congrat- 
ulate her  on  the  gown,  but  she  must  really 
take  better  care  of  you.  Agnes,  go  and  put 
her  in  the  cab.  Good-by,  and  many  thanks 
for  your  trouble." 

"  Good-by,"  breathed  Marian,  softly, 
standing  statue-like,  while  Jack  Adrian,  feel- 
ing tremulous  as  a  woman,  came  up  behind 
his  bride.  The  moments  seemed  to  him  in- 
terminable before  the  door  should  close  on 
hapless  Mrs.  Hatch. 

"  Might  I — to  you  who  are  so  good  and 
thoughtful  of  others,  Miss  Lorimer,"  said 
the  woman,  in  a  low,  strained  tone — "  would 
you  let  me  offer  you  my  congratulations  on 
your  marriage?" 

Gladys  turned,  smiling,  blushing,  with  a 
136 


nestling  movement  toward  her  lover.  To 
her  surprise,  his  face  was  grave  and  shadowed 
as  she  had  never  seen  it.  She  thought  for 
an  instant  there  was  moisture  in  his  eyes, 
and  the  nurse  emitted  a  sound  that  seemed 
strangely  like  a  sob. 

But  no;  impossible.  Gladys  laughed  at 
herself  for  the  notion  that  everyone  was  keyed 
to  her  own  pitch  of  sentiment. 

But  there  stood  the  strange  woman  gazing 
at  her  with  yearning,  beseeching  eyes,  and 
Adrian,  leaning  down,  said  to  her,  gently : 

"  Give  her  your  hand,  dearest.  One  is 
never  too  rich  in  good  wishes,  do  you  think  ? " 

Gladys  held  out  her  hand  shyly,  and  Ma- 
rian pressed  it  to  her  lips  without  speaking. 

"  Come,  Gladys,  to  the  library.  I  think 
we  shall  find  everybody  there,"  said  Adrian, 
breaking  the  trying  silence,  in  dread  of  what 
might  occur.  With  an  arm  around  her  he 
led  her  out  of  the  room. 

"  It  is  very,  very  odd,"  said  Gladys,  won- 
deringly.      "One   might  almost  think  she 
loved  me — but  why  ?  " 
137 


Clje  (EJntoelcome 


"  Why,  indeed,  sweetheart?  "  he  said, 
laughingly.  But  in  his  heart  Adrian  did  not 
laugh. 

"  And  this  is  the  very  end  !  oh,  God  !  " 
exclaimed  the  mother,  left  behind. 

"  My  dearie,  my  lamb,  go,  now,"  said  the 
nurse.  "  The  way's  clear,  and  you've  had 
your  heart's  wish.  Take  the  cab,  drive  back 
to  your  hotel,  and  after  my  bit  of  supper  I'll 
come  and  look  after  ye." 

"Agnes,  I  believe  something  told  her  I 
am  her  mother!"  cried  Marian,  wildly. 

The  woman  seized  her  by  the  arm. 

"  There,  hurry  !  What  did  I  tell  ye  ?  It's 
the  mistress  coming  in.  Pick  up  the  box 
and  go.  Lord  save  us  !  she  mustn't  find  ye 
here  like  this." 

But  Marian  stood,  stupid,  spellbound.  A 
moment  more,  and  Mrs.  Lorimer,  announc- 
ing her  coming  fussily,  sailed  into  the  room 
and  stood  peering  suspiciously  into  the 
gathering  dark. 

"  Gladys  !  Jack  !  where  are  you  ?  Tea 
is  waiting  in  the  library.  Where  in  the 
138 


CUntDelcome 


world  is  everybody  ?     Why  haven't  they  lit 
these  lights  ?  " 

Stepping  back,  she  touched  a  button  by 
the  door,  and  a  soft  radiance  filled  every 
corner  of  the  room.  She  saw  Marian  in 
tears,  saw  Agnes  wringing  her  hands  behind 
her  —  and  recognition  came. 

"  You  !  .  .  .  You  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lorimer, 
a  flutter  of  terror  in  her  voice.  "  Why  did 
you  come  here  ?  " 

Marian  haughtily  faced  her. 

"  I  once  had  occasion  to  ask  the  same 
question  in  the  same  place  of  you,  madam, 
and  when  you  were  the  intruder  and  I  on 
my  own  ground.  I  had  very  good  reason 
for  knowing  that  your  motives  were  less 
creditable  to  you  then  than  mine  are  now 
to  me." 

"  I  knew  that  you  were  alive,  but  I  never 
dreamed  you  would  have  the  impudence  to 
push  yourself  in  here,"  cried  the  woman, 
wrathfully.  "  This  is  Agnes's  work,  letting 
you  in;  and  out  she'll  walk  after  you,  the 
vile  deceiver  !  " 

139 


OJtrtDelcome  jttrfc 


"  Having  accomplished  what  I  came  for, 
I  will  relieve  you  of  my  presence,"  said 
Marian,  whom  danger  had  made  cool. 

Her  daring  seemed  to  dominate  the  situa- 
tion, for  Mrs.  Lorimer  did  not  stir  until,  as 
Marian  passed,  the  hidden  photograph  of 
Gladys  fell  from  her  dress  to  the  floor. 

"  As  I  supposed.  Stealing  my  property  ! 
Who  knows  what  else  you  have  got  stowed 
away  about  you  ?  "  she  said,  spitefully, 
snatching  the  picture  from  Marian's  hands 
as  the  latter  stooped  to  pick  it  up.  "Oh, 
you  needn't  think  you'll  just  walk  out  as  you 
came  in  !  People  of  your  stripe  must  be 
managed  by  the  police,"  and  she  put  herself 
threateningly  in  Marian's  path. 

"  Let  me  pass  !  "  said  Marian,  firmly. 

"  You  shall  not,  I  tell  you  !  "  cried  Mrs. 
Lorimer,  ringing  the  bell  close  to  her  hand, 

"You  can  harm  only  yourself  by  this," 
Marian  said,  shrugging  her  shoulders  lightly. 
"  For  me,  the  worst  has  come  and  gone." 

"  Ask  Mr.  Lorimer  to  come  to  me  here, 
immediately,"  said  the  lady  of  the  house  to 
140 


antoelcome  jttt% 


the  servant  answering  the  bell.  "  Then 
stand  at  the  front  door,  and  let  no  one  leave 
the  house  !  " 

The  man,  glancing  suspiciously  at  Marian, 
then  interrogatively  at  Agnes,  hurried  away, 
and  there  was  no  delay  in  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Lorimer. 

"What's  all  this,  Madge?"  he  said,  on 
the  threshold.  "  Charles  says  there's  been  a 
theft  of  some  kind  —  some  of  the  wedding 
presents  -  " 

His  sentence  was  cut  short.  His  glance 
fell  on  Marian.  Black  wrath  filled  his  face. 

"  You  —  you  impudent,  lying  —  !  "  he  be- 
gan ;  but  she  interrupted  him. 

"  Let  me  go.  I  have  seen  my  child.  She 
does  not  know  me.  I  have  done  no  one 
harm,"  she  cried,  proudly. 

"  Vile,  degraded  creature  !  "  cried  Mrs. 
Lorimer.  "  Your  presence  in  this  house  is 
an  insult  to  Gladys  and  to  me.  But  that's 
not  the  point.  You  stole  one  thing  ;  no 
doubt  you've  secreted  others.  Give  them 
up,  or  I'll  have  you  searched." 
141 


Clje  OJtttoelcome 


"  Oh,  she's  in  no  need  of  stealing,  Mag," 
interpolated  Lorimer,  insultingly.  "She's 
got  her  pocket  full  of  cash,  and  knows  how 
to  get  more,  too." 

"  Then  we'll  just  turn  her  out  in  the 
street,  where  she  belongs,"  added  his  wife, 
seeing  Marian  flinch  and  grow  white  under 
his  stinging  words. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  the  goaded  creature,  sud- 
denly. "  Not  another  word  till  I  have  said 
my  say.  I  wanted  to  go  in  peace,  but  you 
wouldn't  let  me.  Then  let  us  have  it  out  1 
Oh,  since  I  came  into  this  house  to-day  I've 
tasted  heaven  and  hell.  When  my  child 
spoke  to  me,  smiled  on  me,  when  I  touched 
her  warm,  young  flesh,  and  realized  that  it 
was  part  of  mine  —  when  I  felt  once  more 
the  glad  thrill  of  motherhood  warming  my 
veins,  pulsing  in  my  sad  heart,  I  was  drawn 
out  of  my  gulf  of  misery  as  if  by  an  angel's 
touch.  There's  no  sacrifice  I  wouldn't  have 
made  to  keep  good  enough  for  Gladys. 
There  was  no  rancor  left  in  my  heart  for 
any  living  being.  I  could  have  forgiven  even 
142 


antoelcome 


you,  Dick  Lorimer,  for  the  ruin  of  my  life. 
But  it  wasn't  to  last.  I  hadn't  deserved 
such  bliss.  I'd  been  walking  up  the  arch  of 
a  rainbow,  and  when  I  reached  the  top  found 
that  I  must  go  down  on  the  other  side.  But 
thank  God  you  two  can't  rob  me  of  the 
supreme  hour  of  happiness  that  I  have 
known  !  Yet  now,  now  —  do  you  see  ?  —  you 
have  dragged  me  back  into  hell.  This  hypo- 
critical woman,  with  her  vicious  taunts  — 
you,  with  your  cold  brutality  —  have  made 
me  desperate.  To  punish  you  I'd  risk  any 
sentence.  When  I  crossed  that  threshold, 
this  afternoon,  I  was  a  penitent,  soft-hearted 
woman,  yearning  to  walk  in  the  right  path. 
Now  I'm  bitter,  vindictive,  dangerous  ;  and 
you've  only  yourselves  to  thank  for  it  !  " 

"  Dick,  send  for  a  policeman,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Lorimer,  shrinking  to  her  husband's 
side. 

"  Let  her  rave  herself  out,  and  then  turn 

her  loose,"  observed  Lorimer.     "  I  was  the 

worst  kind  of  a  fool  to  parley  with  her  at  all, 

and  I  suppose  I  must  reap  the  consequence." 

143 


OntDClcottte 


"  Put  my  life  beside  that  woman's,  will 
you  ?  "  said  Marian,  scathingly,  "  or  match  it 
with  your  own,  Dick  Lorimer,  and  then  let 
heaven  be  judge  between  us." 

"  There  will  be  time  enough  for  that,"  he 
answered,  coldly.  "  For  the  present,  the 
world  suffices  me,  and  you  will  not  deny 
that  its  verdict  is  in  our  favor.  If  you  take 
my  dispassionate  advice,  Mrs.  Hatch,  you'll 
give  up  this  cheap  tragedy  business  and  go 
back  to  —  say  —  the  —  er  —  sidewalk." 

"  You  dare  ?  "  she  cried,  furiously.  "  Then, 
Mr.  Lorimer,  let  me  tell  you  that  if  I  can't 
answer  your  foul  words  in  kind  I  can  avenge 
myself  in  another  way.  What  of  the  com- 
bination in  business  by  which  you  have 
just  saved  yourself  from  ruin  and  disgrace 
through  the  marriage  of  your  daughter  to 
Jack  Adrian  ?  What  if  Adrian's  people  — 
if  Adrian  himself  —  knew  you  as  you  are  ? 
Would  you  be  so  content  with  your  position 
then  ?  " 

"  Hold  your  mischievous  tongue,  will 
you  ?  "  he  cried,  savagely,  putting  his  hand 
144 


(Unwelcome 


on  the  bell,  "  or,  in  two  minutes,  my  ser- 
vants shall  turn  you  out  of  doors  for  a  com- 
mon sneak-  thief." 

"  Ring,  then  !  Call  all  your  household,  if 
you  choose.  Let  me  tell  my  story  first  to 
them,  and  afterward  to  whomsoever  it  may 
concern." 

"  Damn  you,  I'm  not  afraid  of  you  !  "  he 
shouted,  and  to  prove  it  touched  the  bell. 

There  was  a  moment's  critical  silence, 
while  Lorimer,  stubborn  and  somber,  re- 
mained facing  Marian,  old  Agnes  clinging 
to  her  sleeve  and  praying  her  to  have  self- 
control.  Mrs.  Lorimer,  cowed  and  whim- 
pering, sat  crouched  in  an  armchair.  When 
the  two  menservants,  presenting  themselves, 
stood  awaiting  orders  on  either  side  of  the 
door,  Marian  felt  herself  keyed  to  the  high- 
est pitch  of  nervous  desperation.  Now,  in- 
deed, was  she  fairly  reckless  of  results. 

In  her  veins  ran  the  hot  fire  of  vengeance. 

In  spite  of  Lorimer's  bravado  she  saw  that 

her  mention  of  his   private   affairs   in   the 

matter  of  the  alliance  with  the  Adrians  had 

10  145 


hit  hard.  Her  quick  wit  taught  her  that 
with  this  weapon  in  hand  she  had  only  to 
strike  again  to  be  more  than  even  with  those 
who  had  so  cruelly  wronged  and  wounded 
her.  The  thought  of  their  discomfiture  was 
a  sweet  morsel  in  her  mouth.  To  speak 
out  before  their  menials,  to  publish  them 
to  the  world  as  they  were,  seemed  the 
most  precious  privilege  now  left  her.  The 
flicker  of  appeal  in  the  woman's  coward 
eyes,  the  brutal  rage  in  Lorimer's,  were 
an  irresistible  invitation  to  Marian  to  do 
her  worst. 

While  she  stood,  unconsciously  framing 
her  sentences  so  that  they  might  cause  most 
shame  and  pain,  her  whole  being  transformed 
with  the  strength  of  her  emotion,  a  soft 
sound  came  to  her  ear — the  sound  of  a  girl's 
voice  on  the  landing  of  the  stairs — Gladys 
bantering  her  sweetheart  and  laughing  joy- 
ously. 

Instantly  Marian's  form  relaxed  from  its 
tense,  impassioned  pose,  a  great  change  came 
over  her  face;  she  listened,  trembling  vio- 
146 


lently,  and  the  vengeful  gleam  of  her  eyes 
was  drowned  in  tears. 

"  I — I  will  go  now,"  she  gasped,  bowing 
her  head  before  her  enemies. 

"I  thought  so,"  sneered  Lorimer,  but  he 
had  the  wisdom  to  say  no  more. 

Marian  gave  him  one  last,  mute,  terrible 
look;  then,  lifting  her  box  weakly,  the  un- 
welcome Mrs.  Hatch  passed,  conquered  and 
broken,  out  into  the  night. 


147 


VI 

[T  was  a  stale  Midsummer  morning 
in  a  quarter  of  New  York  where 
the  jarring  clatter  of  wheels  over 
cobble-stones,  the  ceaseless  whiz 
of  elevated  trains,  and  the  cries  of  child- 
ren squeezed  out  of  overcrowded  homes 
to  play  in  the  street,  made  existence  to 
weak  and  weary  brains  tolerable  only  in 
the  rear  of  the  houses  wherein  their  pos- 
sessors were  compacted.  In  a  back  room, 
at  a  window  opening  on  a  fire-escape, 
which  some  deft  hand  had  decked  with 
a  few  boughs  of  wildwood  greenery  thrust 
into  glass  preserve  jars,  a  woman  sat  at 
work. 

When  she  looked  out  over  the  green 
boughs  hers  was  the  privilege  of  seeing  the 
sunshine,  so  blinding  in  the  street,  here  fall 
partially  filtered  through  the  foliage  of  an 
ailantus  tree  in  the  next  yard.  This  tree, 
148 


a  morning-glory  vine  creeping  up  from  the 
fire-escape  of  a  German  woman  below  them, 
and  the  fair  field  of  azure  overspreading  all, 
were  her  present  substitutes  for  the  beauties 
of  nature  with  which  she  had  formerly  been 
familiar  at  Newport  and  Bar  Harbor  at  this 
season  of  the  year. 

Her  inward  vista  ended  in  a  dark  middle 
room,  every  spot  of  whose  ceiling,  every 
crack  of  whose  faded  wall-paper,  she  had 
scanned  while  lying  on  her  back,  staring 
upward  with  hot  eyes,  during  the  recent 
weeks  of  a  long  and  painful  illness.  There, 
in  the  far  corners,  stood  two  little  iron 
beds  made  up  with  exquisite  neatness 
and  conventual  purity  of  linen.  One  of 
these  beds  she  had  thought  never  to  leave 
till  carried  from  it  with  rigid  feet  fore- 
most down  the  common  stairway  of  the 
tenement-house.  But  now  between  the 
half-open  sliding-doors,  with  their  panels 
of  cheaply  ornamented  ground  glass,  she 
surveyed  it  with  the  complacency  of  a  grad- 
uated invalid. 

149 


In  a  spot  screened  by  a  clothes-horse  cov- 
ered with  cotton  stuff,  a  gas  stove  stood  on 
a  pine  table  that  was  additionally  encum- 
bered with  the  few  utensils  and  supplies 
requisite  to  the  canary-bird  menage  of  two 
women,  one  of  whom  ate  through  gratitude 
to  another,  who  had  in  these  days  more 
appetite  than  food. 

In  spite  of  its  cleanly  squalor  and  the 
paucity  of  its  furnishings,  the  place  wore  a 
strangely  festal  air.  Long  scarfs  of  multi- 
colored gauzes  hung  from  a  golden  May- 
pole. Japanese  lanterns  fastened  to  sticks 
decked  with  tinsel  fringes  were  ranged 
around  the  walls.  Stuffed  birds  swung 
in  gilded  hoops.  A  parterre  of  paper 
roses,  red  and  white,  bloomed  on  the 
mantelpiece,  otherwise  arrayed  with  odds 
and  ends  of  old  china,  shells,  fancy  mugs 
and  photographs,  such  as  a  family  ser- 
vant might  accumulate  from  a  lifetime 
of  little  gifts.  The  table  at  which  the 
wan  worker  sat  was  ablaze  with  sheets 
of  brightly  tinted  tissue-paper,  gay  ribbons 
150 


fllntDelcome 


and  a  variety  of  finished  toys  in  the  guise  of 
cotillion  favors. 

When  at  last  the  final  touches  were  be- 
stowed on  a  French  Polichinelle  in  cap  and 
ruffle  affixed  to  the  summit  of  a  gilded  staff, 
she  held  him  aloft,  yielding  him  glad  and 
whimsical  homage. 

'  There,  Mr.  Polichinelle,"  she  cried,  joy- 
ously. "  You  are  all  ready  for  the  Egertons' 
dance  at  Newport  !  You've  a  conceited 
smirk  on  that  jolly  red  face  of  yours.  Now, 
don't  go  and  be  so  set  up  by  your  rise  in  life 
as  to  forget  your  old  friends  and  your  hum- 
ble origin.  Remember,  my  boy,  that  pride 
goes  before  a  fall,  and  you're  not,  like  me, 
constructed  to  survive  a  smash.  I  wonder 
if  you  realize  what  you're  going  from,  and 
where  you  wih1  bring  up.  Here  —  poverty, 
distress,  a  poor,  battered  woman  whom  fate 
would  not  spare  when  she  prayed  to  be  set 
adrift  on  the  unknown  sea,  working  her 
heart  out  to  make  you  beautiful  !  There  — 
lights,  music,  flowers,  the  soft  sea  air,  the 
sparkle  of  gems,  the  rustle  and  gleam  of 
151 


Ontoelcome 


satins,  and  smiling  dancers,  whirling  in  a 
brilliant  round  !  But  don't  let  it  take  you 
in,  Polichinelle  !  I've  been  there.  I  know 
it  all  by  heart.  In  those  days  life  seemed 
one  long  reach  of  shining  parquetry,  to  be 
whirled  over  to  the  music  of  a  hidden  or- 
chestra. Is  it  better  to  have  had  and  lost, 
like  me,  Polichinelle,  or  never  to  have  had 
at  all,  like  you  ?  Do  I  envy  you  ?  God 
knows  I  don't.  My  star's  behind  another 
kind  of  cloud.  Now,  dear  sir,  accept  this 
tinsel  cravat  as  a  last  token  of  my  esteem  ! 
Polichinelle,  I'll  swear  you're  the  image  of 
old  Beau  Bannister,  who  used  to  dangle  in 
my  train.  He'll  be  at  the  ball,  so  look  out 
for  your  twin.  Really,  I  think  you're  as 
well  fitted  to  express  ideas  as  he  is,  poor  old 
dear!" 

She  laughed.  For  a  moment  she  was 
again  Marian  Lorimer  in  the  heyday  of  her 
insolent  young  beauty,  queening  it  among 
the  fine  folk  who  delighted  to  pattern  after 
her. 

Then  the  door  opened  and  an  old  woman 
152 


Ontoelcome 


came  in,  carrying  a  homely  basket  on  her 
arm,  and  hot  and  breathless  from  three 
flights  of  steps. 

"  Laughing,  my  dear  ?  "  she  said,  with  a 
sort  of  patient  cheerfulness  now  become  her 
habitual  manner.  "  Thank  the  Lord  ye  feel 
like  it  !  And  what  do  ye  suppose?  I've  not 
only  got  the  money  for  your  candle-shades 
from  Laferriere,  but  an  order  for  twelve 
more  in  palest  green.  And  you'd  better 
believe  I  stopped  at  the  provision  shop  ! 
Here's  meat  for  soup,  and  the  beautifulest 
little  fat  Spring  chicken  ye  ever  saw,  with 
tea,  sugar,  a  little  bottle  of  cream  and  a 
whole  half-pound  of  that  butter  ye  like  the 
best  —  little  finger  rolls,  too.  You'll  lunch 
like  Queen  Victoria  to-day." 

Marian  ran  over  to  her  and  examined  the 
contents  of  her  basket  gleefully. 

"  I  never  saw  such  richness,  dear,"  she 
said  ;  "  but  —  what's  here  for  Agnes  ?  " 

"  Oh,  childie,  with  a  cup  o'  that  grand  tea 
and  a  slice  o'  buttered  toast  I'll  be  in  clover," 
was  the  answer. 

153 


"  Agnes,  you're  an  unblushing  old  fraud !  " 
exclaimed  the  lady.  "  Now  if  you  don't  eat 
with  me,  share  and  share  alike,  I  vow  I'll 
starve." 

"  Child,  sure  as  ye  live,  I  stopped  in  a  res- 
taurant and  had  a  plate  of  stew.  It'll  be  to- 
morrow before  I  feel  hungry  again.  Lucky 
I  paid  rent  for  these  rooms  so  long  ahead ! 
That  poor  Mrs.  Murphy  above  us  has  to 
turn  out  o'  hers,  and  we're  good  for  another 
month,  thank  God." 

"  My  illness,  two  doctors  part  of  the  time, 
a  trained  nurse  and  expensive  medicines 
have  made  an  awful  vacuum  in  your  little 
hoard,"  said  Marian,  mournfully.  "  You 
shouldn't  have  done  it  in  such  style,  nursey. 
A  hospital  for  me  would  have  been  far  wiser, 
and  you  know  it." 

"  What's  the  odds,  so  long  as  ye  pulled 
through?  I  never  was  forehanded  in  my 
life,  Mrs.  Lorimer,  any  more  than  ye.  We're 
a  pair  of  babies  for  spending  money,  child." 

"  But  now  I  am  well   again,  Agnes — so 

splendidly  well " 

154 


amnelcome 


"  Yes,  splendidly  well,"  echoed  Agnes,  as 
the  speaker  paused  for  an  assenting  answer. 

"  —  and  I  have  made  such  a  capital  start 
in  business,  it  won't  be  any  time  before  we 
recoup  again,  and  I'll  pay  you  back  with  in- 
terest. All  will  come  out  right,  with  such 
orders  as  Mrs.  Egerton's  to  start  on." 

"  Bless  Miss  Thurston's  heart  for  getting 
it  for  ye  !  "  cried  Agnes,  infected  by  her  zeal. 

"  Yes,  bless  her  heart  !  "  repeated  Marian. 
"And  to  think  that  I  used  to  dine  with  the 
Egertons  and  they  with  me  !  I  had  a  tiff 
with  Kate  Egerton  once,  when  we  were  both 
on  the  board  of  a  swell  charity,  and  she 
went  under  in  the  fray.  She  little  knows 
how  Time's  whirligig  is  bringing  her  revenge 
to-day  !  The  one  thing  that  bothers  me, 
Agnes,  is  Doctor  Cotesworth  finding  out 
my  secret." 

"  My  child,  it  had  to  be.  With  ye  so  ill, 
and  me  so  scared,  and  he  that  I'd  known 
through  his  visits  to  the  Lorimer  family, 
what  could  I  do  but  fetch  him  here  ?  And 
then  he  sort  o'  found  us  out." 
155 


antoelcome 


"  I  know;  and  he  in  turn  gave  us  away  to 
our  good  angel,  Lina  Thurston,"  said  Ma- 
rian, now  on  her  knees  packing  away  the 
pretty  gewgaws  she  had  completed.  "  I 
don't  blame  you  in  the  least,  Agnes  dear; 
you  couldn't  have  kept  it  in,  any  more  than 
we  could  have  lived  without  Lina  Thurston 
getting  me  that  first  work  for  Laferriere, 
and  buying  me  the  materials.  Like  the 
lady  she  is,  Lina  took  back  the  money  she'd 
advanced  for  that  stuff,  as  soon  as  I'd  made 
the  first  sales.  Just  wait  till  some  of  Kate 
Egerton's  pals  ask  her  where  she  got  these 
favors,  and  Mrs.  Hatch  will  have  her  hands 
full  of  orders  for  more.  We'll  get  out  of 
this  house,  then,  Agnes,  in  double-quick 
time.  I'll  have  a  tidy  little  showroom, 
where  ladies  will  like  to  come,  and  a  fore- 
woman who  knows  her  business  in  witching 
customers.  Trust  me  for  original  ideas  and 
all  the  rest.  Why,  we'll  be  rolling  in 
money,  Agnes,  and  have  —  don't  jump  out 
of  your  boots  —  chicken  twice  a  week  !  " 

Agnes,  busy  in  her  corner  with  the  gas 
156 


antoelcome 


stove,  heaved  a  sigh,  and  looked  at  her 
charge  doubtfully. 

"What  is  it,  nursey?  Out  with  it!  I 
see  you  have  some  deep-dyed  conviction 
you're  afraid  to  speak." 

"Dear,  it's  about  Dr.  Cotesworth.  He 
that's  thought  ye  the  beauty  of  the  world 
ever  since  he  was  a  lad,  and  ye  a  young  mar- 
ried lady  in  your  husband's  home." 

"  Now,  Agnes,  old  girl,  none  of  your  pa- 
laver on  that  question,"  was  the  answer, 
while  Marian's  head  dived  deep  into  the 
box.  "  Trust  an  old  maid  for  romantic  fan- 
cies!" 

"  My  dear,  he's  the  salt  of  the  earth  ; 
he's- 

"  Then  Lina  Thurston's  bread  will  be  well 
sprinkled  with  him,"  cried  Mrs.  Hatch. 
"  It  was  you  yourself  who  told  me  they  are 
engaged." 

"  Servants'  hall  gossip's  all  I  have  to  go 

on,"  replied  Agnes,  turning  the  half  of  her 

vaunted  chicken  on  the  grill.     "  They  did 

say  Miss  Thurston  had  always  fancied  him 

157 


antoelcome  jftrg.  f  atcty 


—  but  since  he's  found  ye  again,  poor  gen- 
tleman, he's  looked  another  way.  And  if 
ye  hadn't  bluffed  him  off  -  " 

"  Not  one  word,  you  match-maker  !  Of 
all  the  preposterous  fancies,  that's  the  worst. 
When  our  two  benefactors  marry  each 
other,  Agnes,  we  will  send  them  the  big- 
gest, fluffiest  sort  of  a  lamp-shade,  with  your 
compliments  and  mine  -  " 

"  It's  queer,  his  having  stopped  away  so 
long  now  —  he  that  stretched  out  his  hand  to 
help  ye,  that  watched  over  ye  as  anxiously 
as  I.  Ah  !  childie,  ye  can't  help  yourself  — 
ye  fascinate  everybody,  old  and  young.  I 
can't  mistake  the  looks  I've  seen  him  turn 
on  ye.  And  they  do  say  he's  going  to  leave 
the  country  and  settle  in  one  o'  them  far- 
away places  in  South  America  or  China  or 
somewheres.  When  he's  gone,  and  there's 
no  callin'  him  back,  perhaps  you'll  be  sorry 
ye  made  so  light  o'  him." 

"  But  I  don't  make  light  of  Robert  Cotes- 
worth,  Agnes.     God  knows  I  don't.     He's 
a  big,  true  man,  if  ever  one  was  —  a  good 
158 


atrtoelcome 


gallant  gentleman  ;  and  what  he  has  been  to 
me  —  poor  waif  fallen  across  his  pathway  — 
is  laid  up  in  heaven  to  his  account.  But  it's 
a  girl  like  Lina  who  ought  to  walk  beside 
him  in  the  future  —  he's  her  kind,  she  is. 
Do  you  think  I'd  be  base  enough  to  use  my 
poor  little  chance  to  stand  between  them  ? 
Ah,  no,  Agnes,  my  day  is  done  ;  the  sea  has 
swallowed  up  my  setting  star." 

"  Come,  come,  child  ;  if  it  bothers  ye  I'll 
not  mention  his  name  again.  Here's  your 
tray,  and  I've  cleared  the  table.  Sit  ye 
down  and  eat  every  bit  of  this." 

Marian  sighed  again,  then  smiled,  and 
obediently  seated  herself  before  the  tray. 

"  Oh,  how  good  it  smells  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
in  answer  to  the  old  woman's  look  of  eager 
pride.  "  Agnes,  you  are  a  trump  at  cooking, 
as  at  everything  else.  Now  bring  your  own 
plate  and  cup  and  sit  on  the  other  side." 

"  My  child,  I  tell  ye  I've  had  my  dinner," 
protested  Agnes. 

"  Yesterday,  I  dare  say,  you  pious  de- 
ceiver. Now  mind  me,  old  girl,  or  I'll  not 
159 


flJntoelcome 


eat  a  mouthful.  Take  your  full  share,  and 
we'll  fairly  riot  over  our  first  square  meal  in 
the  last  three  days." 

However,  Marian's  appetite  was  soon  sat- 
isfied, while  the  older  woman  ate  with 
healthy  hunger,  and  meanwhile  regarded, 
with  covert  yearning  and  anxiety,  the  still 
brilliant  though  wasted  apparition  opposite. 

Deep  down  in  Marian's  long-  sealed  heart 
she  had  become  aware  of  the  springing  up 
of  a  new  and  delicious  emotion  —  an  emotion 
that  was  yet  so  unduly  hers,  she  thought, 
that  she  hung  her  head  in  consciousness 
of  desire  to  appropriate  and  indulge  it.  A 
week  or  two  before,  when  Robert  Cotes- 
worth  made  his  visit  the  occasion  of  a  tenta- 
tive appeal  to  this  feeling,  she  had  laughed 
bitterly  at  the  idea  of  its  possible  existence. 
Now  —  now  —  Was  it  because  the  old 
woman's  gossip  had  put  her  in  possession  of 
the  fact  of  his  determination  to  leave  the 
country,  faintly  outlined  in  his  last  talk  with 
her?  What  else  could  have  worked  the 
miracle  but  the  thought  of  long  parting  from 
160 


one  on  whom  she  had  come  to  lean,  with 
utter  dependence,  for  every  hope  of  health 
and  strength  and  daily  sympathy  ? 

"  Ye  don't  like  it  ?  "  asked  Agnes,  crest- 
fallen. 

"  My  luncheon  ?  Indeed,  yes !  Im- 
mensely ! "  ecstatically  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Hatch.  "  Haven't  I  eaten  more  than  in  a 
long,  long  time  ? " 

"  Well,  dear,  now  you're  strengthened  a 
bit,  I've  got  a  surprise  for  ye.  What'll  ye 
say  to  our  darling  bride  being  on  her  way 
home  ?  Yes,  true  enough,  they're  due  on  the 
Campania  to-morrow,  early.  Miss  Thurs- 
ton  told  me,  and  said  I  was  to  let  ye  know 
it  by  degrees,  but  there  aren't  any  degrees  in 
the  likes  o'  that,  are  there  ?  " 

"Agnes,  you're  like  a  sunburst  1"  cried 
Mrs.  Hatch,  radiantly.  "  But  a  moment 
ago  I  was  thinking  of  how  far-reaching  and 
wide-spreading  are  the  results  of  our  own 
wrong  actions,  wondering  why  I  might  not 
dare  to  feel  glad  again  in  life.  Now  I  am 
glad — healthily  glad — glad  with  a  joy  of 
11  161 


which  no  man,  no  moralist,  no  verdict  of  the 
world  may  rob  me." 

"  When  you're  feeling  black-like  inside  o' 
ye,  dear,  always  think  about  your  child. 
I've  noticed  it  never  fails  to  do  ye  good." 

"  I  do.  I  do  think  of  her.  Oh,  my 
Gladys,  my  Gladys !  Agnes,  how  grand 
that  she  is  coming  home  !  Though  I  may 
never  look  at  her  or  speak  to  her,  I'll  know 
she's  near.  I'll  picture  her,  dream  of  her,  as 
of  old.  Never  can  I  forget  the  touch  of  her 
warm,  strong  young  hand,  the  sweet  odor  of 
her  breath,  the  soft  texture  of  her  flesh — my 
flesh,  Agnes — that  day,  that  beautiful  day 
when  I  gained  her — that  hideous  day  when 
I  lost  her." 

"  My  poor  dear,  something  tells  me  you'll 
see  her  again.  God  couldn't  be  cruel 
enough  to  shut  ye  out  from  one  more 
chance.  Let's  hope,  anyhow;  and  now, 
child,  ye  must  lie  down  and  rest  a  bit,  and 
let  me  finish  packing  all  these  here  things. 
The  expressman  will  call  for  them  at  four. " 

"  Go  away,  Agnes.  Don't  you  touch  my 
162 


fttttoelcome 


playthings,"  cried  Marian,  wilfully,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet,  then  going  down  on  her 
knees  again  before  the  packing-case.  "See  ! 
I'll  finish  them  beautifully.  Since  you  said 
that  I  might  chance  to  see  my  child  —  wildly 
improbable  though  I  feel  such  a  hope  to  be  — 
I  have  got  new  life  in  my  veins.  You  are 
right,  Agnes  —  God  is  just,  not  cruel,  and 
maybe  He'll  take  into  account  what  I've 
done  since  —  not  before  —  I  went  under  the 
ban." 

As  one  by  one  the  bright  emblems  of  a 
gayer  life  than  hers  passed  into  eclipse  in  the 
packing-case,  the  room,  denuded  of  its  finery, 
was  revealed  in  all  its  sordidness  and  poverty. 
The  hot  afternoon  melted  into  a  hotter 
night.  A  teething  child  in  the  front  apart- 
ment adjoining  cried  all  through  the  long, 
stifling  early  hours,  until,  in  despair,  Marian 
stole  forth  to  seek  it,  and  carrying  the  little 
sufferer  out  on  the  fire-escape,  sat  with  it 
there,  wooing  the  breeze  of  dawn,  while  the 
mother  found  merciful  repose. 

The  baby  dozed,  but  its  watcher  kept 
163 


open-eyed  vigil.  She  was  thinking  that  her 
own  child  was  on  the  sea,  sailing  down  the 
coast,  nearing  the  friendly  harbor.  Again 
and  again  she  prayed  God  to  speed  her  be- 
loved safely.  Just  then  the  whole  world 
was  narrowed  for  her  to  the  confines 
of  a  single  ship.  The  months  of  blank 
desperation  following  her  daring  visit  to 
her  old  home,  the  near  peril  of  death 
she  had  passed  through,  the  new  element 
strangely  injected  into  her  life  and  rigor- 
ously excluded  from  it,  the  reawakening 
to  an  existence  of  toil  and  stress,  the  dark- 
ness of  the  future — all  were  now  merged 
in  tumultuous  joy  at  the  thought  of  her 
child's  vicinity. 

Spite  of  the  wretched  night,  Marian  woke 
from  a  brief  morning  doze  brighter  and 
stronger  apparently  than  Agnes  had  seen 
her  in  some  weeks.  Out  of  her  garden  of 
new-budding  hopes  the  "black  bat  night 
had  flown."  For  a  morning  paper  had  an- 
nounced the  arrival  at  the  dock,  earlier  than 
expected,  owing  to  an  unprecedentedly  quick 
164 


antoelcome 


run,  of  the  steamer  bearing,  among  others  of 
interest  to  the  fashionable  world,  the  newly 
married  pair,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Adrian,  en 
route  to  their  Adirondack  camp. 


165 


VII 

I ATER  in  the  day,  Miss  Lina  Thurs- 
ton,  clad  in  cool,  refreshing  mus- 
lins, wearing  a  shady  hat  and 
carrying  in  her  arms  a  great  sheaf 
of  Summer  flowers,  descended  from  a  han- 
som before  Mrs.  Hatch's  door.  Having 
once  spent  six  months  in  a  nurses'  settle- 
ment in  a  congested  district  of  the  town,  the 
sights  and  sounds  of  poverty  were  as  familiar 
to  her  as  daily  bread.  She  now  glided  be- 
tween the  groups  of  sidewalk  children,  dis- 
tributing to  them  a  posy  apiece  from  her 
armful,  and  then  ran  lightly  up  the  steps  to 
Marian's  quarters,  leaving  behind  her  a  trail 
of  fragrance  from  sweet  peas  and  nod- 
ding roses.  She  found  Marian  sitting  at 
her  usual  table  engaged  in  making  candle- 
shades,  but  looking  like  a  new  woman,  so 
Lina  averred. 

"Not  the  new  woman,  please.     I'm  just 
166 


the  old,  old  kind,  living  on  emotions  and 
impulses,  pinning  my  everlasting  happiness 
on  the  sleeve  of  chance,  and  buoyed  up  by 
my  own  imagination  of  things  rarely  realized. 
To-day,  however,  I  do  feel  strangely  better, 
and  these  flowers  of  yours  will  complete  the 
cure.  Quick,  Agnes!  every  glass  and  pitcher 
you  can  trump  up,  and  let  me  riot  in  the 
beauties  !  You  yourself  make  me  think  of 
some  flower,  Miss  Thurston,  but  I  have  not 
yet  found  which  one." 

"  I  '11  tell  you, "  said  Lina,  smiling.  "  Peach 
blossom — not  especially  good  looking,  and 
concealing  a  bitter  flavor. " 

"  Mignonette,  rather,"  corrected  Marian, 
"with  its  clean,  wholesome,  health-giving 
perfume.  Dear  friend,  one  can  never  say 
the  really  grateful  things  one  feels.  It's 
only  pretty,  meaningless  phrases  that  run  off 
the  tongue  trippingly.  But  always  remem- 
ber that  you've  lifted  me  out  of  the  valley 
of  desolation.  It's  something  to  have  done 
that  for  a  fellow-being,  isn't  it  ?  Now,  I 
must  tell  you  that  Mrs.  Egerton's  huge  case 
167 


full  of  things  got  off  safely,  yesterday,  and, 
if  I  do  say  it,  will  do  credit  to  your  recom- 
mendation. When  I  get  the  money  for 
them,  and  for  more  work  ordered  by  La- 
ferriere,  we'll  be  passing  rich,  Agnes  and  I. 
We're  even  talking  about  moving  out  of 
this  house  into  better  rooms,  and  in  the 
Autumn  spreading  our  wings  and  opening 
a  little  shop.  Of  course,  capital's  the  rub." 

"I'll  help  you,"  said  Lina,  looking  at  her 
with  surprise,  so  gay,  so  light  of  heart  she 
seemed.  "  I  was  just  going  to  make  an 
offer  to  become  a  '  silent  partner,'  or  what- 
ever you  like  to  call  it,  in  your  venture. 
I've  a  small  sum  lying  idle  that  I  am  glad 
to  invest  so  well.  You  see,  1  count  largely 
on  your  exquisite  taste  in  purveying  to  the 
monde  oil  Ion  s  amuse" 

"  You  dear,  blessed  woman ! "  cried  Marian, 
overjoyed.  "  That  rolls  the  last  stone  out 
of  my  path,  since  Dr.  Cotesworth  assures 
me  that  with  care,  and  by  avoiding  any 
great  mental  strain,  I  am  good  for  the  or- 
dinary span  of  life." 

168 


"  He  has  not,  then,  convinced  you  that 
you  need  someone  to  take  absolute,  exclu- 
sive care  of  you  ? "  interrogated  Lina, 
brusquely. 

Marian  looked  at  her  in  surprise,  then, 
very  gently,  answered  : 

"You  know  him,  dear  lady.  It  was  he 
who  brought  you  to  me  in  my  time  of 
cruelest  stress.  Can't  you  realize  that  even 
the  most  clever  and  self-reliant  man  may 
sometimes  act  on  an  impulse  of  pity,  through 
an  obsession  of  missionary  zeal  ?  Ah  !  I  am 
mocking,  as  usual;  but  don't  mind.  What- 
ever I  may  do,  or  leave  undone,  where  he's 
concerned,  it's  through  no  lack  of  apprecia- 
tion or  gratitude. " 

"  Do  you  know  that  he  is  going  away — 
that  he  is  exiling  himself  from  home  and 
everything  ? " 

"  I  know  that  in  time  he  will  see  what  is 
truly  best  for  him,"  said  Marian,  very  low. 

"  Mrs.  Lorimer,  you  and  I  believe  in  each 
other,  don't  we  ? "  answered  Lina,  bravely. 
"  Very  well,  then.  Let  me  tell  you  that 
169 


Robert  Cotesworth  will  not  change.  Put 
from  your  mind  any  cobweb  of  delusion  on 
that  score,  and  trust  me  implicitly  that  it  is 
better  so.  Only,  it  seems  cruel  to  let  him 
go — alone.  There,  I  know  you  are  sore 
and  weak  and  timid  still ;  but  neither  is  a 
child,  or  yet  accountable  to  any  human 
being.  It  is  a  new  life  I  am  pointing  out  to 
you,  and  over  yonder,  with  half  a  world  be- 
tween you  and  your  past,  you  may  win  the 
chance  you've  lost  here.  Now,  I  won't  let 
you  answer  me — not  a  word,  please;  you 
are  not  yet  ready  for  the  new  view  of 
things." 

"  Had  ever  good  man  so  noble  an  ambas- 
sador ?  "  cried  Marian,  tears  rushing  to  her 
eyes.  "  But  you  are  right — I  am  not  fit  to 
speak  of  it.  Just  now  I  am  all  a  mother. 
Early  this  morning  Agnes  stole  out  into  the 
street  to  buy  a  newspaper,  and  since  I  have 
seen  the  glorious  news  that  Gladys  has  re- 
turned, I  can  think  of  nothing  else." 

"  Then  you  can  bear  hearing  that  I  have 
just  come  from  her,"  said  Miss  Thurston, 
170 


aJntoelcome 


scrutinizing  the  feeble,  palpitating,  yearning 
creature  with  grave  sympathy. 

During  the  weeks  of  her  visitations  to  old 
Agnes's  shabby  abode,  the  friendship  that 
had  grown  up  between  Miss  Thurston  and 
the  poor  waif  of  circumstance  had  strength- 
ened into  a  devotion  such  as  the  world  rarely 
sees  among  their  sex.  Lina,  like  Dr.  Cotes- 
worth,  possessed  by  the  indestructible  charm 
of  Marian's  personality,  had,  like  Cotesworth 
also,  come  to  estimate  her  at  her  true  worth. 
And  when  Lina  realized  that  Cotesworth 
had,  without  warning,  found  himself  sur- 
rendered heart  and  soul  to  a  passion  for 
Marian  absorbing  the  full  power  of  his  man- 
hood, she  put  aside  self  and  gave  rein  to  her 
vast  desire  to  reconstruct  the  life  of  hapless 
Mrs.  Hatch.  To  save  Marian  seemed  to 
Lina  the  fulfilment  of  all  her  dreams  of 
service  to  her  fellow-beings.  And  to  serve 
Robert  Cotesworth,  with  whom  for  some 
years  past  she  had  worked  hand  in  hand  in 
the  cause  of  charity,  poor  Lina  would 
have  renounced  —  did  renounce,  as  we  have 
171 


seen — her  own  most  secret  hopes  of  happi- 
ness. 

At  this  juncture,  coming  as  she  did  from 
a  special  mission  in  Marian's  behalf,  to  which 
Cotes  worth,  still  sore  from  his  rejection  by 
Mrs.  Hatch,  and  making  preparations  for  a 
long  absence  from  his  native  land,  had  in- 
spired her,  Miss  Thurston  gave  herself  the 
full  joy  of  savoring  good  news  in  the  act  of 
distributing  it.  While  Marian  lay  back  in 
her  chair,  listening  in  fascinated  silence,  Lina 
told  her  all  the  details  of  her  visit  to  the 
Adrians  at  the  hotel  where  they  were  stop- 
ping on  their  way  through  town.  Marian 
drank  in  every  item  about  her  child's  beauty 
and  radiant  happiness,  about  Adrian's  sayings 
to  his  young  wife,  about  Gladys's  pretty  re- 
joinders. 

"But  I  must  not  tire  you,"  Lina  said, 
suddenly,  pulling  herself  up  in  some  alarm 
for  the  result. 

"  Tire  me  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Hatch.  "  You  are 
giving  me  oxygen  to  live  on ! " 

"Because,"  said  Lina,  deliberately  and 
112 


with  tender  intonation,  "all  I  have  said  is 
only  by  way  of  preparing  you  for  something 
better." 

"  Something  better  ? " 

"  Mrs.  Lorimer,  don't  let  yourself  get  ex- 
cited. Your  doctor  has  given  me  leave  to 
tell  you " 

"What  has  Dr.  Cotesworth  got  to  do 
with  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Marian,  puzzled. 

"  Don't  you  know  he  is  an  intimate  friend 
of  Mr.  Adrian?  He  is  also  one  of  the  biggest- 
hearted  men  I  know.  He  took  upon  himself 
the  responsibility  of  sending  me  to  tell  Mr. 
Adrian  of  your  illness  and  your  whereabouts. 
Of  course,  I  took  occasion  to  see  Mr.  Adrian 
apart  from  Gladys.  I  believe — I  am  sure — 
she  has  never  yet  been  told " 

"  Better  so,"  said  Marian,  crimsoning. 

"  But  nobody  could  have  been  nicer  than 
Mr.  Adrian.  He  was  greatly  shocked  and 
touched  by  my  story  of  your  illness — and 
.  .  .  Agnes,  do  you  come  and  stand  by 
Mrs.  Lorimer  while  I  tell  her  my  best  news 
of  all." 

173 


"Gladys  is  coming  here?  "  cried  Marian, 
electrically.  "  Oh,  yes !  I  see  it  in  your 
eyes,  I  hear  it  in  the  tremor  of  your  voice. 
Ah,  God  is  merciful !  " 

"  Mr.  Adrian  will  bring  his  wife  to  look 
up  her  old  nurse,"  said  Lina,  steadily,  while 
Agnes  slipped  a  sturdy  arm  around  Marian's 
shoulders. 

"Now? — soon? — to-day?"  faltered  Ma- 
rian, passionately  glad. 

"Now,  almost  immediately — it  was  his  first 
impulse.  He  felt  that  you  ought  to  see  her,  to 
be  encouraged  to  get  well.  But  you  won't 
forget,  Agnes — you  won't  let  her  forget — 
that  Dr.  Cotesworth  is  emphatic  against  her 
giving  way  to  any  sudden  emotion. " 

"  I  know — I'm  so  grateful  to  him  for  this 
thought,  and  to  you  for  executing  it,  I'll 
submit  to  anything. " 

"  I  rather  think  he  will  find  it  best  to  be 
here  when  they  are,"  said  Lina,  a  purple 
flush  mounting  around  her  eyes.  "  The 
truth  is,  I  saw  him  for  a  moment  when  I 
came  away  from  them." 
174 


flJntoelcome 


"  Oh,  what  plotters  and  planners  you  all 
are,  and  all  against  one  poor  little  broken 
woman  !  "  cried  joyous  Marian,  her  thoughts 
bounding  ahead  to  the  goal  where  they 
oftenest  converged.  "  If  you  could  ever  feel 
the  sudden  delicious  warmth  that  has  come 
into  my  heart  !  Gladys  here  !  my  baby  ! 
mv  beloved  !  " 

Her  voice  fell  to  so  soft  a  note  it  might 
have  been  the  echo  of  a  dream.  She  closed 
her  eyes  in  a  little  doze  inspired  by  weak- 
ness, and  Lina  Thurston,  with  a  final  keen 
pang,  thought  she  had  never  seen  her  rival 
look  more  beautiful.  Roughly,  almost,  so 
quick  the  movement  was,  she  leaned  over 
and  kissed  Marian  on  the  brow,  then  hur- 
ried from  the  room,  while  keen-  sighted  old 
Agnes,  used  as  she  was  to  Miss  Thurston's 
abrupt  ways,  looked  after  her  with  adoring 
gratitude,  the  greater  because  of  her  partial 
comprehension  of  affairs. 

"  Miss  Thurston  is  gone  ?  "  cried  Marian, 
rousing   presently.     "  Oh,    Agnes,   it's    our 
guardian  angel  who  has  taken  flight  !  " 
175 


"  Never  mind  sorrowing  after  her,  dearie,'' 
said  Agnes,  who  was  frantically  putting  the 
room  to  rights.  "  She's  got  her  reward  laid 
up  above,  for  sure.  The  thing  that's  bother- 
ing me  is  that  ye  ought  to  change  your 
dress." 

* '  So  I  ought ! "  exclaimed  Marian,  survey- 
ing herself  ruefully.  "Get  me  that  cream 
muslin — or  no,  my  white-and-black." 

"  My  dear,  I  just  can't;  we  ate  them  both 
up  last  week,  when  things  were  at  their 
worst.  I'd  been  hoping  to  save  enough  to 
get  them  out  of  pawn,"  answered  Agnes, 
dolefully. 

"  Never  mind ;  Gladys  won't  know  your 
room-mate,  and  Adrian  won't  care.  Brush 
my  hair,  Agnes,  you  old  duck.  I'm  very 
thin,  and  decidedly  shabby,  but  I'll  have  to 
do  as  I  am." 

"  Do  ye  remember,  lovie,"  suggested  the 
old  nurse,  *  *  how  once  ye  used  to  give  me 
finery  I  couldn't  use,  and  you'd  laugh  at  me 
for  stowing  it  away  in  camphor  and  the  like  ? 
Well,  there  was  a  Paris  tea-gown,  of  a  white 
176 


autoelcome 


crepy  stuff,  trimmed  with  lace  ;  ye  got  tired 
of  it,  and  told  me  to  never  let  ye  look  at  it 
again.  It  wasn't  half-  worn,  and  I've  got  it 
yet." 

"  Why  haven't  you  pawned  that,  too,  you 
miser  ?  What  do  you  mean  by  hoarding 
the  best  of  the  batch  ?  "  asked  Marian, 
rallyingly. 

"  I  —  I  was  just  keeping  it." 

"  For  what  ?  "  queried  Marian. 

"For  old  times'  sake,  sure,"  said  the 
woman,  hurrying  into  the  next  room,  hold- 
ing one  hand  across  her  heart,  as  if  Marian 
could  see  it  bursting  with  the  sorrowful 
intent,  long  treasured  there,  to  save  this 
special  garment  for  the  last  toilette  of  her 
charge. 

"  How  odd  and  jerky  Agnes  is  to-day," 
thought  Mrs.  Hatch,  settling  and  resettling 
Lina's  flowers  in  their  vases,  which,  as  now 
arranged  on  her  table,  made  a  frame-  work 
for  her  noble  head  and  bust.  "  I  suppose 
she's  fairly  overcome  by  the  thought  of  her 
little  Gladys  coming  here.  I'm  not  over- 

12 


amaelcome 


come.  I'm  only  calm  and  proud  and  thank- 
ful. I  want  to  do  nothing  that  will  betray 
me  to  my  child." 

Agnes,  who  had  been  stooping  over  an 
ancient  trunk  in  the  inner  room,  now  re- 
turned, carrying  across  her  arms  a  fluttering 
garment  of  white,  filmy  stuff,  from  whose 
folds  floated  a  faint  odor  of  violets.  At  sight 
of  it  Marian's  face  changed  to  a  sudden  wist- 
ful pensiveness.  Taking  it  across  her  lap, 
she  stroked  it  curiously. 

"  Ah,"  she  said,  half  to  herself,  "  I  remem- 
ber so  well  the  day  I  bought  it  at  Paquin's. 
Dick  helped  me  to  choose  it  —  that  was  why 
I  gave  it  up  afterward  —  I  couldn't  bear  the 
sting  of  remembering  happier  times.  We 
came  home  to  our  hotel  in  the  Rue  Castig- 
lione  and  drove  out  to  the  races  at  Auteuil 
afterward.  All  Paris  was  in  the  Bois  that 
day  of  June.  The  carriages  were  four 
abreast,  moving  at  a  snail's  pace  in  the 
alleys,  all  filled  with  pretty  women  and  idle 
men.  The  sidewalks  were  crowded  with 
people,  the  fountains  and  bands  were  play- 
178 


SJntoelcome  ;fftr& 


ing,  the  horse-chestnut  blossoms  rose  like 
pink  spires  on  the  trees,  birds  were  singing 
everywhere,  and  sunshine,  flowers,  verdant 
slopes  and  vistas  greeted  us  on  all  sides.  I 
was  beautifully  dressed,  and  Dick  sat  beside 
me  in  the  victoria,  always  whispering  that 
he  had  as  yet  seen  no  woman  to  match  his 
little  wife  in  looks  and  chic.  God  !  why 
couldn't  that  have  lasted  ?  Why  does  noth- 
ing last,  except  envy  and  spite  and  malice 
and  all  uncharitableness  ?  1  loved  him  so 
then  I  drank  in  his  every  word  like  gos- 
pel. Then  the  races  were  so  gay,  and  we 
drove  back,  as  we  came,  through  a  world  en 
fete,  and  had  our  little  dinner  in  our 
rooms,  when  Dick  insisted  I  should  wear 
this  for  him.  This,  for  him  !  How  he  kissed 
my  arms  where  the  sleeves  fell  away  !  They 
were  round  and  full  and  firm,  not  poor, 
wasted  sticks  like  these.  This,  for  him! 
Agnes,  it  would  kill  me  to  put  it  on  again." 
"  Come,  child,  let  me  do  your  hair,"  said 
Agnes,  who  had  paid  little  heed  to  her  rhap- 
sody. 

179 


antoelcottte  Jttt% 


"  No,  I'll  go  in  and  loosen  it  a  little,  and 
try  to  let  it  shade  my  face.  I'm  not  looking 
ill  enough  to  repel  a  young  person,  am  I, 
Agnes  ?  "  she  added,  anxiously. 

"There'll  never  be  one  to  look  sweeter 
and  finer  and  more  like  the  tip-top  quality," 
asseverated  the  nurse,  stoutly.  "  But  ye 
mustn't  tire  yourself,  dearie  ;  whatever  ye 
do,  don't  get  tired." 

Marian  promised,  and  went  off  to  her 
room,  shutting  behind  her  the  sliding-doors, 
and,  at  the  last  moment,  looking  back 
between  them  to  reassure  anxious  Agnes 
with  a  caressing  smile. 

Hardly  had  she  vanished  from  the  scene 
when  a  step  was  heard  on  the  landing,  fol- 
lowed by  a  knock,  and  Agnes  opened  the 
door  to  Jack  Adrian. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Adrian,  it's  as  welcome  as  flow- 
ers in  May  ye  are,"  exclaimed  the  nurse,  joy- 
ously. In  his  manly  and  prosperous  presence 
she  promptly  forecast  relief  from  her  poignant 
anxiety  to  make  their  livelihood  assured. 

Jack  came  in  gravely,  a  line  across  his 
180 


{Unwelcome  $rtt;& 


brow,  looking  about  him  as  if  dreading  to 
meet  what  might  be  awaiting  him. 

"  Agnes,  this  is  a  distressing  story  Miss 
Thurston  has  brought  me  from  Dr.  Cotes  - 
worth,"  he  said,  in  an  undertone.  "  Where 
is  she  ?  " 

"  In  yonder,"  signaled  Agnes.  "Yes,  it's 
sad,  sir;  but  you'll  not  think,  to  look  at  her 
now,  how  sad  it  has  been.  But  she's  like 
one  made  young  again  by  the  news  of  your 
coming.  If  only  she  could  have  a  mind  at 
rest,  sir,  I  believe  she'd  get  a  new  chance  at 
living." 

"  Why  was  not  I  informed  of  her  illness?  " 
he  asked.  "  Surely  I  should  have  known. 
I,  not  you,  should  have  borne  the  burden. 
She  should  never  have  dropped  to  this." 

"  She  had  promised  ye,  sir,  that  ye  should 
never  hear  of  her  again,  and  my  poor  lady 
always  kept  her  word." 

"  True,  but  I  never  meant  to  hold  her  to 

that  pledge.     Agnes,  your  child  is  down  be- 

low, in  the  carriage.     She  knows  nothing, 

suspects  nothing,  of  the  real  object  of  this 

181 


flJtvtoelcome 


visit.  She  believes  she  is  coming  to  rout 
you  out  and  take  you  away,  to  be  part  of  our 
establishment  henceforward.  For  heaven's 
sake,  advise  me  what  to  do  with  her." 

"  Fetch  her  up,  sir,  and  let  nature  point 
the  way." 

"  I  am  afraid  she  ought  to  know  about  her 
mother,"  he  said,  moodily. 

"  I  think  so,  sir.  It's  the  one  that  suffered 
birth  pangs  for  her  to  live,"  answered  Agnes. 
"  And  so  good,  so  patient,  so  high-minded 
and  brave.  Believe  me,  Mr.  Adrian,  your 
wife  will  never  be  ashamed  to  own  my  poor 
darling  for  her  mother." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  he  hastened  to  say  ; 
"but  Gladys  is  so  bright  and  girlish  still. 
Our  honeymoon  has  never  waned.  It  has 
been  a  dream  of  joy." 

'  "  Ye  can't  shut  out  sorrow,  Mr.  Adrian, 
from  any  woman's  life.  And  Gladys,  like 
her  mother,  was  made  to  bend,  not  break." 

"  I'll  go  for  her,  "  he  said,  resolutely.  "  Do 
you  tell  the  mother  we  have  come." 

His  turn  of  the  door  knob  was  met  by  that 
182 


cantuelcome  jEt#* 


of  Gladys  on  the  other  side.  She  ran  in, 
beaming,  and  fell  on  Agnes's  neck. 

"  If  you  two  think  I  mean  to  stop  down 
stairs  and  play  royalty  on  its  rounds  a 
moment  longer!"  she  exclaimed,  radiantly. 
"Jack  knew  that  the  greatest  treat  he  could 
give  me,  on  the  first  day,  was  to  come  over 
here  and  capture  you,  nursey  darling  !  Now 
you're  ours  from  this  day  forth  —  you're  go- 
ing to  darn  .our  stockings  and  keep  those 
piles  of  bridal  linen  in  the  most  splendid 
order,  and  generally  '  boss  '  our  maids.  Isn't 
that  a  career  for  you,  old  thing?  Answer 
and  say  you're  glad." 

In  this  merry  hectoring,  in  the  birdlike 
movements  of  the  speaker's  head,  in  the  lov- 
ing imperiousness  of  her  manner,  Agnes  felt 
that  the  mother  was  repeated. 

"I'll  be  back  in  a  minute,"  she  said, 
vaguely,  disappearing. 

Gladys,  a  little  taken  aback  at  the  nurse's 

abrupt  exit,  attributed  it  to   emotion  over 

their   reunion.     In  the  interval  of  waiting 

she  fluttered  like  a  butterfly  about  the  room, 

183 


(antoelcome 


handling  its  belongings  with  the  freedom  of 
a  petted  juvenile. 

"  What  a  lot  of  lovely  flowers  Agnes  has, 
and  how  well  she's  learned  to  group  them  ! 
I  recognize  that  old  china  cat  and  dog  on 
the  mantelpiece,  Jack.  I  bought  them  for 
her  at  a  fair,  ages  ago,  when  I  was  eight. 
This  old  workbox,  too,  that  I  was  never  al- 
lowed to  play  with  !  I  wonder  I  dare  touch 
it  now.  These  shells  —  old  servants  always 
run  to  shells  —  I  used  to  put  them  to  my  ear, 
like  this,  and  listen  —  listen  for  the  voice  of 
the  sea  she  told  me  I  could  hear.  Oh,  what 
old  frights  of  photographs  !  Is  there  any- 
thing so  subduing  to  one's  pride  as  to  come 
upon  one's  former  self,  with  whom  one  was 
so  satisfied?  Here  I  am,  in  all  ages  and 
stages  —  on  a  rock  by  an  imaginary  lake,  on 
my  donkey,  riding  on  a  bough,  and  in  my 
first  ball-gown.  Oh,  horrid  little  thing  ! 
how  you  simper  !  "  and  merrily  she  turned 
the  offending  face  to  the  wall. 

"  Here's   a  picture   I  never  saw  before, 
Jack,"  she  exclaimed,  suddenly,  pouncing  on 
184 


ontoelcome 


a  faded  photograph  in  a  frame  surrounded 
by  china  forget-me-nots.  "  Agnes  must  have 
had  it  hid  away  —  but  why  ?  Jack  1  I've  seen 
this  woman  !  Awfully  pretty  she  must  have 
been,  in  spite  of  that  funny  hairdressing  and 
gown.  Tell  me,  dear  —  you  know  me  better 
than  I  know  myself  —  where  have  I  met  her, 
recently?  Not  a  round  and  dimpled  face, 
youthful  and  smiling  like  this,  but  thinner, 
paler,  with  the  eyes  full  of  unshed  tears. 
Jack,  dearest,  something  goes  out  from  my 
heart  to  her  —  I  know  not  what  -  " 

"  Gladys,  my  sweetheart,"  said  Adrian, 
strongly  moved,  "  doesn't  that  something 
tell  you  you  are  looking  at  your  mother?  " 

"  Then  why  have  they  never  shown  it  to 
me  before  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Why  have  I  been 
always  told  there  was  no  likeness  of  her  in 
existence?" 

"  My  darling,  it  was  thought  best  to  keep 
you  in  ignorance.  The  circumstances  under 
which  you  and  your  mother  parted  were  not 
ordinary  ones  —  they  were  very,  very  sad. 
The  knowledge  would  have  darkened  your 
185 


(Sntoelcome 


young  life.  Your  father  could  not  bear  to 
have  her  alluded  to.  She  offended  him,  and 
he  never  forgave  her." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  said,  with- 
drawing herself  from  his  arm-clasp,  and 
blushing  deeply. 

"  Gladys,  your  mother  did  not  die.  She 
was  separated  by  law  from  your  father,  and 
went  to  live  far  away  from  him.  She  is 
living  still." 

"But  I  have  seen  her,  spoken  to  her,  I 
tell  you,"  she  said,  bewildered.  "  Oh,  why 
doesn't  it  come  to  me  when  and  how  ?  " 

'*  My  own  wife,"  said  Adrian,  again  draw- 
ing her  to  his  heart,  "  you  need  all  your  self- 
control,  for  you  are  about  to  meet  the  poor 
lady  whose  life  since  she  gave  you  up  has 
been  everything  that  is  true  and  noble.  It 
was  not  your  nurse,  but  your  mother,  whom 
I  brought  you  here  to  see  —  your  mother, 
who  has  been  dangerously  ill,  and  is  still  in 
the  most  pitiful  condition.  All  we  can  do, 
darling,  won't  be  enough  to  make  up  to  her 
for  what  she's  suffered  here." 
186 


He  felt  her  heart  beat  wildly  against  his 
own  ;  felt  the  tremor  of  intense  feeling  that 
shook  her  frame,  her  hands  fluttering  in  his 
like  prison  birds.  But  speech  from  either 
was  arrested  by  the  sliding  back  of  the  mid- 
dle doors  in  their  grooves.  Marian,  clad  all 
in  white,  a  sweet,  piteous  look  in  her  eyes, 
the  rose  bloom  of  girlhood  returned  to  her 
cheeks,  held  out  her  arms  to  Gladys,  who 
flew  to  her  embrace. 

"  It  was  you,  mother,  who  came  to  me  on 
the  day  before  my  wedding  ?  "  asked  the  girl, 
presently,  when  she  sat  close  by  the  chair 
into  which  Marian  had  dropped,  weak  from 
emotion,  but  happy  beyond  all  words. 

"  Yes,  my  own  love ;  I  could  not  resist  it. 
It  was  rash,  foolish,  unforgivable,  perhaps, 
but  the  only  way  to  see  and  touch  my  child." 

"And  you  sent  this  chain  and  pen- 
dant I  always  wear  ?  See !  I  have  it  on 
now,  and  Jack  has  never  pretended  to  be 
jealous." 

"  Yes,  yes  ! "  said  Marian,  eagerly. 

"  Often  and  often  have  I  thought  of  you, 
187 


and  not  even  to  Jack  have  I  spoken  of  the 
strange  thrill  your  touch  gave  me." 

"  My  child,  my  little  one,  joy  of  my  heart!" 
murmured  the  mother  in  her  ear,  "  in  this 
moment  I'm  living  all  the  years  I've  missed 
of  you ;  but  we  won't  think,  won't  speak,  of 
what  is  gone.  It's  the  future — the  bright, 
glorious  future — that  concerns  us.  To  think 
that " 

Her  words  seemed  to  trail,  then  stopped 
abruptly.  Her  head  fell  back,  her  hand 
clutched  at  her  heart. 

"  Jack !  Agnes  !  "  cried  Gladys,  in  terror, 
"  come  to  her !  " 

Agnes  and  Adrian,  who  had  withdrawn 
out  of  earshot  of  mother  and  child,  hastened 
to  Marian's  aid.  The  experienced  eye  of 
the  nurse  saw  at  once  that  the  present  at- 
tack differed  in  some  respects  from  those 
preceding  it,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of 
enormous  relief  that  she  was  called  to  the 
door  to  admit  Dr.  Cotesworth,  whose  arrival 
had  been  deferred  until  this  momentous 
crisis  of  affairs. 

188 


Clje  antoelcome 


Adrian,  who  believed  Marian  to  be  dying, 
was  torn  between  his  desire  to  remove  Gladys 
from  the  painful  scene  and  his  conviction 
that  her  place  was  by  her  mother's  side.  He 
therefore  welcomed  appreciably  Cotesworth's 
prompt  suggestion  that  his  patient,  on  re- 
covering from  what  might  probably  prove  a 
rather  more  obstinate  attack  than  usual  of 
a  familiar  malady,  would  be  far  better  left 
alone  in  his  hands  and  the  nurse's. 

So  Gladys,  yearning  to  remain,  was  car- 
ried off  by  Jack,  her  final  act  being  to  kneel 
beside  her  mother's  fainting  form  and  fondly 
kiss  her  hand.  It  needed  all  of  Dr.  Cotes- 
worth's  authority  to  convince  her  that  this 
sudden  close  of  an  opening  chapter  of  de- 
light was  not,  of  necessity,  a  last  farewell. 
Her  plaintive  and  girlish  assurance  that  she 
would  trust  all  to  him  rang  in  the  physi- 
cian's ears,  and  returned  to  him  again  and 
again  during  his  efforts  to  snatch  poor  Marian 
anew  from  the  jaws  of  the  grim  enemy,  who 
seemed  ever  to  await  her,  hungering. 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  me  go  ?  "  Marian 
189 


asked  Cotesworth,  as  he  watched  her  again 
struggle  back  into  life  and  a  sense  of  its  re- 
alities. Her  old  whimsical  impetuosity  of 
manner  gave  him  cheering  reassurance  that 
it  was  her  very  self  whom  he  had  regained. 
He  answered  her  with  a  smile,  repeating 
what  she  had  bid  him  keep  to  himself  for- 
ever. 

"  Oh,  I  meant  because  it  was  all  just  right 
then,  and  it  can  never  be  right  again,"  she 
said,  hastily.  "  I  have  tasted  a  supreme  de- 
light, and  Gladys  thinks  she  has  recovered  a 
lost  treasure.  But  now  that  they  have  got 
me  back,  what  in  the  world  can  Jack  and 
my  darling  do  with  me?  This  old  trump  of 
an  Agnes  would  rather  starve  with  me  than 
leave  me  to  go  live  in  their  luxury.  You, 
the  best  and  truest  friend  woman  ever  had — 
I'm  blighting  your  career;  and  what  you 
wanted  me  to  do  would  have  brought  down 
on  you  all  the  thousand  tongues  of  scandal. 
The  plain  truth  is,  I'm  a  problem,  a  super- 
fluity, a  block  in  everybody's  path — nobody 
can  afford  to  indulge  in  me.  My  death 
190 


antoelcome 


would  set  everything  straight!  You  who 
have  forced  me  to  live,  tell  me  what's  to  be- 
come of  me  ?  You  are  very  clever,  Dr. 
Cotesworth,  very  big  and  positive,  and  sure 
of  yourself;  but  if  you  lived  a  thousand  years 
you  could  never  solve  that  riddle,  and  you 
needn't  try." 

"  Nonsense  !  That's  just  what  I  mean  to 
do,"  he  answered,  in  a  burst  of  such  honest 
masculine  conviction  that  a  flicker  of  the 
old  fun  came  into  her  eyes,  to  be  followed 
by  a  gush  of  grateful  tears. 

Was  what  he  wished,  and  Agnes  wished 
with  all  her  loyal  old  heart,  ever  to  come  to 
pass  ?  They  thought  so,  but  already  Mari- 
an's higher  self  had  decided  otherwise. 


(2) 


191 


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